


Crossroads and Guillotines

by BenevolentFae



Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 08:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15882486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenevolentFae/pseuds/BenevolentFae
Summary: The new Beth is at war with her meek old self, and with some heavy guilt at the feelings she can't help but feel. And maybe he feels them too, but then again... What's a girl like her doing with a guy like him anyway? (Smutness)*ON HIATUS, NOT ABANDONED*





	1. Borderline

**Author's Note:**

> Please bear with me, this is the second fic I've ever written, and the first one since 2014 so I'm a tad rusty. It's a little longer, but I'm happy with it. Enjoy!
> 
> *ON HIATUS, NOT ABANDONED*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting from when Beth summoned the devil with a shiny strand of pearls.

She twisted the amber poison around her glass once, twice, before taking a large swig and downing the entire thing. The bourbon licked a burning trail down her course throat, thrumming into her senses, and Beth became vaguely aware of the quiet jiggling of a doorknob. As she mustered all the composure her nerves would allow, somewhat clammy palms smoothed the greenish-grey cotton of her blouse. She found herself actively shoving down an excited chirp, because he'd not only received her message, but he actually bothered to show up. If Beth didn't know any better, she might have gotten the impression that she held a small thread of power over him. But she couldn't allow herself to think such arrogant thoughts, less she get carried away. When a guy like Gangfriend was calling the shots, it wasn't exactly a secret how quickly you might wind up missing and deceased faster than anyone could say 'counterfeit money.' Steeling her nerves, she drew back her shoulders, straightened her spine,

and waited.

With leopard grace, and the danger to match, a slender form sauntered into the warm pooling of the kitchen light. Fitted bikers jacket, his shirt buttoned to the neck, and jeans; all black, as usual. He looked delicious and dangerous all at once. Perhaps she had underestimated his allure, maybe she couldn't do this after all. Dark, half-lidded eyes caressed her top to bottom and inside out without ever leaving her face, dialling Beth's heart rate up a few notches and kicking the wind right out of her.

Time seemed to slip away under his unwavering gaze, and she couldn't say if it had been minutes or seconds, but she refused to be the one to crack the silence between them. The ever present tangible THING they shared slithered heat up her thighs, taunting and hungry. With a sharp jut of her neck, Beth silently asked if he wanted a drink. But of course he shook his head, denying her an inch into his stony exterior, even when asking for a mile. Always on the ball, always in the game, always in control His pink tongue flicked quickly over his lips, wetting them smooth. She drew in a gasp of air, praying he wouldn't notice. Even that tiny motion seemed lewd on him. 

'You can do this. He's just a person.'

Holding her head high, she refilled the crystal glass without ever breaking eye contact, and raised it to her pink lips. She blinked back fear, and something else, -something less familiar, needy- and the thin, inviting creases of his mouth parted a fraction.

"You know the tradition is Jordans over a phone line, right?" The way those onyx eyes darted low, only to swoop up slowly over her chest, and how his mouth hardly moved as he spoke drove Beth crazy. It shouldn't be possible,that a stranger could evoke such overwhelming force upon her. It was unreasonable, and silly. Yet, here she was, suffocating.

"I only had pumps," She shot back with a coy shrug. She wouldn't let him see her trembling; She'd banter with him until the sun came up, if that's what it took. All three girls needed this, and this was her only chance.

"Fair enough." His sugared drawl seeped straight to her gut, twisting and turning in a hot wave of desire; Whether it was for him or what he represented, she wasn't sure. Her heart thundered under his sure mannered steadiness, not even trying to hide how much she intrigued him. A playful smirk tugged gently at all his hard features, and the power radiating off him intoxicated her, soothed her, set every glowing inch of her pale skin on fire.

He was beautiful, strikingly so, and when his grin widened ever so slightly, Beth couldn't stop another gasp jumping from her lips. She was heady and drowning. She didn't even know his name, yet her senses overloaded just at the sight of him. Suddenly she wasn't the Beth Boland she always felt she should be - mother of four, pitiful housewife of a cheating dirtbag, in over her head- she was something more. She was desirable, she was strong, witty. Cunning and sexy, finally playing in a league suited to her skills. She was the woman who could spit steady logic with a gun to her head now more than ever. She looked at this beautiful devil before her, and the thought that she summoned him and he came, soaked right through her knickers.

"So, what did you wanna talk to me about?" He challenged her, dared her to tell him what she was thinking, like he already knew. Something in him dared her to ignore it, and just talk business, like a boss would do. But the business at least for now, she forgot as she shifted under his knowing gaze.

"I want," she began eagerly, but cut herself off. He raised an eyebrow at her lazily, waiting. And what did she want?

"I want back in." And she did, more than she wanted him between her thighs.

"Okay."

And just like that he turned to walk away, the quiet, smoldering spell dissipated. Beth reeled back, uncertain is she'd imagined it all along. Yet another old hag lusting unprovoked after a tight, younger body. Typical. Because he hardly even reacted, and that couldn't be all it took to devote yourself to a life of crime.. could it? Panic drove her quickly forward, and she was grabbing for his arm before she could think about why she maybe shouldn't have. The moment her fingertips sunk into the leather at his elbow, he whirled on her, and Beth shriveled into herself. He loomed, too close for comfort, and she couldn't breathe over the roaring intensity clouding his eyes. He didn't say anything, and she realized she was still clutching tightly to his arm. It was like realizing she had walked loudly into a lion cage, and the retreat was agonizingly slow so as to not be eaten. The further she withdrew the more he seemed to relax.

"First rule of the job," he spat down at her, a voice of dry ice and bullets "You best remember who you're working for."

He turned to leave again, and she almost let him, but something silly and reckless, and maybe a little stupid inside her needed to ask.

"Wait!"

And for some reason that neither of them understood, he did. She hadn't expected him to, and she floundered a little before adrenaline reminded her to swim. Then it dawned on her how very alone they were, and that they'd never been alone before. There was always someone else, or a gun to slice through the thick, tense smog. She took a slow step towards his turned back.

"We get a cut." And then he did turn, as shocked an expression as he could allow plastered to his face. A myriad of emotions played over his features, from surprised, to amused, to thoughtful, but he only continued to stare.

Beth knew he was testing her, he always was. Everything was a game, and as much as he liked to win, he loved to play.

"Twenty percent," she tried, bold and sure. He wasted no time; not when it came down to business.

"Ten."

"Seventeen."

"Thirteen." He shot back, Batting his eyelashes. She stepped close to him, entranced well within his personal space.

"FIF-teen." And she realized he wasn't breathing, because if he were she'd have felt it fluttering over her chin. But when he nodded Beth was focused solely on his lips, soft and inviting. She wondered how they'd feel; would he be gentle, like his tone? Or would it feel as brutal as his eyes on her, as rough as his edges, as wild and dangerous and demanding as he was?

"Cool, cool." It counted as a firm handshake in his book, and it was settled. He slanted his eyes up and down her body once more, his voice barely a hush in the thick bubble of lust wrapped around them. Beth Boland was back in business, so to speak, and she was beaming. She felt GOOD! He arched a brow, smug and devious, half his mouth cocked upwards in a sluggish grin.

"That all?" He drawled, tonguing the sharp points of his top teeth seductively. Beth nodded her head slightly, her own devilish amusement sparkling her features.

"Mhmm," she moaned, a decidedly breathy sound. She fluttered her eyelashes, and watched him swallow thickly, no doubt picturing her in a more... primal scenario. Picturing a thousand ways he could get her making those same damn noises.

He nodded once, slow and decisive. She saw him grit his jaw, the slight, telling tick Below his ears, before he brushed past her. By the time Beth could process what was happening he was gone, out the door and away into the night.

He moved hastily through the dark path towards his black Cadillac, stealthy and glowering. The whole way home he clutched at the steering wheel tighter than life. With his knuckles turning white, he scrambled to piece together his broken brick wall of self-control, and tried not to whip the car around and turn back to her house. She was an enchantress, casting her wicked and dangerous spell over him in ways he couldn't afford. She'd be the death of him, if he let her. She'd worm her way into his thoughts unless he cast her out.

"You a boss," he whispered to himself, again and again. "You're a fuckin Boss!"

Sometime before the sun came up and his boys came knocking for business, he started to believe it.

...

Tremors wracked through the boy as they half dragged him up the stairs, his arms over their shoulders. The house was silent, as expected, and he did a quick sweep of the bedrooms, deciding on the smallest one. At a glance he figured it would be the most convenient, with only one little person needing to be shuffled come bed time. Some part of him, tucked way back into his mind whispered that maybe he also just couldn't stand the thought of this boy being in her bed, laying comfortably in the one that smelled of her.

Eddy groaned as the men set him on the child's mattress, the small pink and white sheets tainted with sweat and scarlet stains. He bent down close to the young, agonized face, mumbled something the boy wouldn't hear about how he was 'safe here' and 'she'd take good care' of him. One of his goons pinned Eddy down, soothing him as best he could, while the other, the smaller of the two, made quick but delicate work of extracting the bullet and patching him up. He used the free time to explore the house.

When he sauntered upon the master bedroom, filled with half empty photo frames and only women's clothing dangling in the closet, he couldn't help the smug grin creeping over his face.

'hubby must'a done somethin real stupid' he mused to himself.

Sensing someone behind him, he turned his head to the side, still looking hard at the quaint wedding portrait on the dresser before him.

"We good?" He murmured, distracted. All he received was a grunt of what seemed to be approval, and they slipped from the house, a heaviness settling in their chests. There was something they needed to handle, a score to settle.

...

Kenneth rambled on about Tommy's party, and the hotel rooms and sports games, and Beth bit her cheek. She looked into his little face, and she wanted to tell him his father had stolen away his chances of a grand birthday party this year, maybe for the next few. She wished more than anything to just run her fingers over his rosey plump cheeks, to be able to tell him she could make it work. But she couldn't, and she despised herself. Hated Dean more than ever. The sound of Emma's petite voice nagging her name rocked to her core, snipping at the final threads of her patience.

"What is it?" Beth patted herself on the back at the surprisingly cool tone, grateful she, by the grace of God, hadn't yelled.

"Who's the man?" They blinked at each other.

"What man?"

"The man in my bed." A dead weight dropped through her chest, a sickening taste pooling at the ball in her throat.

Kenny and Emma followed her up the stairs, but she barely saw them through the white hot terror. A pounding heartbeat resonated loudly within her skull, and Beth beckoned them to stay behind the cover of the hallway corner. When she drank in the sight of the clearly wounded boy, barely on the cusp of manhood, bleeding out on little Emma's childhood sheets, she heaved a sigh of relief.

'Hes already been shot,' she mused inwardly. Panic and reason trudged through her minute of peace, reminding her that gunshots KILL people, and she may or may not have an actual dead body to dispose of from her baby's mattress by the time she dropped her children off with their father. Goddammit, she was going to kill that gangbanger.

...

"That is not what I meant when I said we'd do another job!" Beth jabbed a finger at him. Rio; His name was Rio.

He smirked at her hushed but shrill tone, only infuriating her more that he was amused with his own cruel trick. Even in her puffy winter coat, all shrill and worked up she was fine. Annie and Ruby lounged behind her, curiously following Beth's lead.

"Who is that guy?" She demanded. He cocked one brow.

"He works for me." Beth was mildly thrown by how almost gentle he spoke to her, no hint of condescension. His unwavering composure was a surprising comfort, which she clung to. She found herself lifting her chin, gathering up her ruffled feathers, smoothing them out.

"Does he wash the money?" Annie shot in brightly, earning her a rather peeved side eye. Rio noted the hand Beth raised at her side, a single flick of her wrist silencing her sister. She wasn't no boss or nothin', but she commanded respect and she got it. A natural leader, even if she didn't realize it. Nothing could puzzle or arouse him more than that. Except maybe how she got right back to business, refusing to be sidetracked or unheard.

"Regardless, there's been a miscommunication!" Beth hated how weak she sounded, how wide her eyes must be, how completely scared she felt.

"Oh, so you think you can pick and choose what you wanna do-" his eyes narrowed to slits and he leaned in menacingly- "and when you wanna do it." As usual, it was a statement rather than a question.

"She thought it'd be like driving for Uber." Ruby exasperated, the annoyance etched upon all her features. She rolled her eyes, and he couldn't help but chuckle. These girls were killin' him with how easy and formal and SAFE they expected working for him to be. When he had to explain why a kid hit in a drive-by couldn't go to no hospital, their naive faces scrunching while they sorted that in their heads, he got the hint that maybe they weren't cut out for this. Still, they'd surprised him before, and he was willing to bet real money that they would do it again. They'd bring him something he wouldn't otherwise know he needed, he could sense it. If not, at least it was a pretty fine view. He watched them literally lick their lips as he casually rolled out the neat stacks of cash he had presumptuously wadded in his hoodie. They turned on her then, her devoted subjects goading and coaxing against her at the first sight of a loaded payday. Rio flashed a wicked, boyish grin that shot straight between Beth's thighs.

"You get your money when I pick him up."

It was a firm, non-negotiable statement.

"So, we got a deal ladies?" His devilish brown eyes glimmered, trailing Beth's pink tongue as it darted thoughtfully over her supple lips. And he knew he had her, inhaling the power he had over her, revelling in the the high. "Or what?"

Without asking, she had gotten the girls mixed up into a world they'd done their fair share to get out of. Beth had finally felt what it was to swim after years of sinking further underwater, and it would have killed her to let that go. Her first breath of fresh air in far too long. But the girls weren't like her; they didn't crave the thrill, weren't seeking adrenaline. Her sister and best friend only needed to provide for their families, and that was enough. She had been selfish and impulsive, and if they were all in, then she at least owed them this. Backing down wasn't an option, and everyone knew it. All she could do was break, huffing a defeated sigh. What had she gotten herself into? Three sets of eyes trailed his long fingers as they crammed the wads of cash back where they'd come from.

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Rio regarded her carefully, conducting some sort of elaborate experiment with that stoic gaze. At Ruby's not-so-suble mouthing, she and Annie faded into the house, giving the pair of them privacy. "I ain't got time to hold your hand through this, Mama," he hummed. Only, he didn't seem annoyed like she'd expected. There was kindness there, and something else entirely.

Beth nodded. "I know." She hesitated, unsure how much play room she had with the leash around her throat. "It's just that I have kids."

"So?"

"So... You can't just drop a dangerous criminal in their beds whenever you want!" She felt silly even saying it, and in a blink he was in her face, all shreds of calm withered away.

"You forget who's running things already, Darlin? I'll do what needs to be done, and if you're in, then you're in. You take what I give you."

Beth refused to cower, though her tongue curled up into her throat. As usual, he didn't wait for her reply; he didn't need it. Rio whirled on his heel, and Beth stood frozen on her back porch until the roaring of his Cadillac thundered away. Then she pulled out her phone, Googling the necessary steps to treat a gunshot wound at home.

...

After a few lighthearted rounds of whiskey and some sobering episodes of Desperate Housewives, Annie and Ruby packed themselves up and headed home. Beth flicked off the TV, ruminating in the emptiness of the house. She was almost dreading going to sleep, sad to see an excitingly rare childless evening come to such a casual end. So she poured herself another, cranking up her music to silence the suddenly sad thoughts creeping into her mind, blocking out the whimpering boy upstairs. She'd left a few bottles of water in pail of ice beside the bed for him, along with her strongest bottle of painkillers. Beth was wary to go in there too often, afraid she'd find his chest still and his pale face waxy and unmoved.

So instead she danced, hips swaying languidly to the music until sweat pooled on her forehead. With a sneaky grin she slipped her shirt over her head and tossed it aside before starting on her jeans. She twirled freely around her living room, using the bottle of booze as a makeshift microphone while she belted obscene lyrics back into the speakers. It had been ages since she'd danced a night away in nothing but her underwear, sometime back in college. She hardly batted an eye when she bumped over the remnants in her glass after a particularly uplifting tune, the cool mixture of alcohol and ice water seeping into her faded black mom-jeans and sweatshirt. She may have done the same thing three times before learning from her mistakes and resting her drinks down in the center of the coffee table. Unlike the old buzzkill Beth, who would have killed her high in a fit of mopping the mess and tackling the laundry, new Beth, the money-laundering drunk one, decided that she'd deal with it tomorrow. It was a small thrill, yet she soaked it up like soup on bread nonetheless.

With a contented sigh, she made her way to the kitchen in search of a refill. It was all she could do not to scream and hurl the empty bottle at him when she was thrown face to face with a bemused Rio, still sporting the same outfit as before.

"GOD, what are you DOING here?!" He could tell she maybe had had too much when she didn't move to cover her exposed form. He tried not to show how heavily her creamy curves affected him, slipping that signature collected mask over his features. The chuckle rumbled through his chest, a booming sound that doused Beth in fire from the inside out. She was sweating again, for new wholly unwholesome reasons

"Sounded like I was missing one helluva party," he shrugged. With a high brow he ticked his head towards her half naked frame, chocolate eyes bright and shining like a kid at the candy store. Realization dawned upon her, and she sunk to the floor, hugging her knees and hiding her blush in her lap.

"Can you please pass me my shirt," she murmured. He made a grand show of pretending to cover his eyes and peaking through his fingers, simultaneously furthering her embarassment and drawing a nervous giggle from her. Following the shuffling of his shoes on the hardwood, she heard a grunt of disapproval and the wet smack of her outfit back to the floor. Vaguely she was aware of the long whir of a zipper, and she startled a little when she felt his hoodie drape over her shoulders.

"Your clothes are soaking wet," he explained, his face almost shy as she beamed her blue eyes up at him. Beth barked a laugh.

"Now that you're here, that ain't the only thing" she slurred. And the giggles took over, cute, girlish sounds bubbling up from her gut. She scooped a strand of her flaming hair behind her ear before pushing one arm, then the other through the sleeves, sliding the zipper into place. She only fumbled a little, and she let herself smile proudly at her triumph. She didn't see how Rio's eyes tailed the gesture, or the bobbing of his Adams Apple when he tried to swallow the slow burning of desire scraping through him. He briefly wondered if she were bluffing; if he dipped his fingers into her panties would they be wet for him? He gazed down, heavy-lidded and confused, wondering why he had come. Why HAD he come here? He pretended he didn't know the answer, and that the answer wasn't this woman before him.

Instead, Rio offered her a hand, and with surprising elegance she grasped it, pulling herself to her feet. Even when she was up she didn't let go of his hand, her tiny fingers hot against his. She wanted to kiss him with every cell in her body, she wanted to taste his lips, feel them on hers. Feel them on her jaw, her neck, her chest. She craved him lower, and all over, all at once. He stiffened when she stepped into him, and God he wanted her, but not like this. No, he wanted her sober; to know it was him marking her flesh and making her cum, to remember it, his face, his body. It took all his strength and then some to stop her just before their lips touched.

"You've had a lot to drink, Elizabeth," he hissed, the words gushing around the tiny sliver of self-control clenched hard between his teeth. She made a noise, somewhere between a giggle and a moan.

"Not that much," she lied, kissing a wet trail down his neck. He clamped his eyes tight, unable to entirely stifle the groan when Beth nipped at his pulse point, laving over it with her tongue. He really tried not to, but he pictured her mouth other places, and his pants seemed to shrink right where he needed more space. Long, nimble fingers caressed his chest, tender and exploring, and he had to firmly move her backwards as they tried to dip into his jeans.

"Wait-" he started, but the sight of her in almost nothing but his sweater hanging just past the top of her thighs, mussed strawberry hair wild and sexy against her swollen lips, nearly had him undone. "How many drinks have you had."

Beth tried to count back, but the math of the spillage and the dancing and the music still pumping in the next room left her at a loss. She simply shrugged, biting her lip. She peaked at him through her lashes, the sneakiest of smiles flourishing under her lipstick. Dean had had fun, he'd had A LOT of fun, so why shouldn't she? It was no secret she found him attractive. He practically gulped when she began to move her hips, twisting and sliding back towards the living room.

"If you're not going to fuck me," she purred from the doorway "then you at least owe me a dance."

And he knew he was a goner, but he followed her anyways, cursing in what she could only assume was Spanish.

She danced around him, against him, for what felt like hours. Her coy hips snaking about his and coaxing a few tense moves from him. She poured him a drink, and by his second he had loosened up enough to twirl her about the room with grace. He took over as DJ, steady, pulsing beats washing about the room. She realized they were usually singing in Spanish. There was something intoxicating about the exotic feel the language brought over Beth, the way he seemed to relax into the music. She closed her eyes, lost in the moment and the music and his hard chest against her back.

"You're a good dancer," she declared.

"One of many things I can do." Beth laughed at his playful boasting, her rump vibrating beautifully against his hips. They fit so perfectly together, like his body was made to dance on hers. He rested his cheek tenderly on the top of her head, rocking them back and forth to the slow tempo. He gave her a firm squeeze when she made to turn around in his arms, holding her back to him.

"Mm-mm Darlin, I know what those hands can do." He drawled, content just to enjoy the moment. He couldn't see the wicked grin, but damn did he hear it in her voice.

"I don't need to touch you to turn you on, Rio." It was the first time she said his name. She placed her hands over his on her hips, making him feel how she moved and gyrated against him. She let out a breathy moan.

"If I wanted to get you going," she began, her voice entrancing over him as they moved, "I could tell you how hot you make me when you look at me. How I can't get your voice off my mind even after you've yelled at me."

She dropped down slow, tilting her head back against his legs to look up into his eyes. They stared down at her darkly, tense and predatory. When she dipped back up she tilted her head to one side and revealed her neck to him. Tangling her fingers behind his ear she brought his lips to her throat, groaning as he kissed her skin. He gave a low, gutteral growl, fighting tooth and nail against his instincts.

"I could tell you about the night you came when I called you with a necklace." She let out a gasp when he bit her neck, his tongue trailing up to her ear to nibble at the shell. He felt her shudder against him and his breath stuttered.

"I could tell you how I made myself come, again and again picturing your face." He grunted, aching and spiraling out of control. "Picturing you bending me over that couch right there." The grip on her hips was bruising, punishing, wonderful.

"Picturing you pulling my panties aside, slipping in your fingers instead of mine." He palmed the edge of his hoodie at her legs, hesitating. She could feel his erection digging deliciously into her back, and she'd never felt more desirable.

"I could describe how it sounded when I screamed your name when I was done." And then he couldn't fight it anymore, he slid his hands down her thighs, pulling her legs open. He reached around expertly, his fingertips finding no resistance with her lacey, soaked panties. He slicked a finger through her sopping slit, gliding over her protruding clit before plunging two fingers inside.

"God yes," she whispered, choked sobs ripping through her as she tossed her head back against his shoulder. His masterful hands pulled every ounce of pleasure her body had to offer, pausing his fierce rhythm only to walk her towards the couch. And just like she said, he bent her over the sofa with her hands gripping the back for support. He worked her until she was trembling, and had to wrap his free arm around her waist to hold her in place when she tried to shy away from the climax bulldozing through her. He fucked her with his fingers, hard and fast, and he didn't stop until she came again, his name ripping from her throat like a hurricane.


	2. Grocery Store

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you read the chapter I posted before, I may or may not have definitely posted the 3rd and forgot the second... Soooo here I am, righting my wrongs.

Slinking from the open backdoor into the yard, he scanned the crowd of families before him. Briefly he noted the idiot from the photos, taller in person, and Rio was sure he could take him. But he only had eyes for Beth. A form fitting baby blue wrap dress dotted with pink flowers hugged each of her delicious curves, setting her fiery red hair alight. If he were being honest, he'd expected a party; Kenny had raved about his birthday dreams while they'd been solving math problems together, and he'd thought about Beth, more dolled up than normal, more than he cared to admit. Her party dress did not dissapoint. She spotted him hovering on the deck looking her over like she was something to eat.

While the other two gawked in fear, clutching their little ones close, the heated gaze from Beth was made of a whole different recipe, memories from their last encounter flashing like diamonds behind her baby blues. Black jeans and a navy button up donned his lithe, confident form, and as she waltzed towards him with determination he slipped gracefully back into the house. She trailed purposefully behind, past the stairs and towards her bedroom, only flushing a little at the sight of the wide bed.

After he'd stolen her breath away, twice, on the couch, his phone had rung. With a grimace he had told her that he had to go, tossed her limp form over his shoulder like it was nothing and carried her to her bed. She fell asleep before he was even out of the room, but he must have slipped back to place a glass of water on the mahogany bedside table. She awoke in a daze still wearing his hoodie. She'd spent half the next morning nursing a hangover while looking for her underwear, and if she didn't know any better, she'd have sworn he took them as a lacey trophy. Her hairs stood on edge just thinking about it, but that had been days ago and she hadn't heard from him since.

"You can't just walk in here!" Beth exclaimed. Frustration edged the pink lines of her mouth. It unnerved her to admit that it was due moreso to the fact that he'd chosen TODAY than it was from him helping himself to an invitation.

"The door was open," his sweet voice rung out, coating over her thoughts. He rummaged through the clutter on the dresser, nonchalantly lifting his shirt to flash her the golden gun tucked into his waistband. A thinly vieled reminder that she didn't get to tell him what to do, even at her own party. He snagged their wedding photo from the ledge and held it up.

"This your husband?" The lucky bastard, ugly and pathetic and stupid, yet he still managed to win over a real woman.

"Yes," she groaned, though she wasn't sure if that was because he asked, or because she'd been dumb enough to fall for a dirtbag like Dean.

"What does he do?" Nothing, she thought.

"Uh- he sells cars." Flabbergasted and confused by his line of questioning, Beth offered her answers easily.

"He any good at it?" She hated talking about the useless excuse for a man that was her husband. She almost wished he'd just shoot her.

"Yes..Yeah. what? Why does that matter?" Rio seemed read the tension in her brow like a classic novel. Her husband must not be playing nice, like he'd thought.

He bore her a meaningful glance, lips curling slightly in disgust.

"Yeah he don't look too trustworthy to me."

It struck a nerve. Maybe because Beth knew firsthand how well he could judge a book by it's cover, how well he had to in his line of work. She clamped her jaw, and he knew she wouldn't say anything else about the matter. He stalked towards her possessively, each step sending another bolt of heat to her traitorous, aching core.

"What do you want," she whispered, and immediately wished she hadn't. As Rio drew nearer he groped her up and down with a look; one that she felt in the betraying pool between her legs. He playfully waggled his dark eyebrows at her. Had the circumstances of the day been different -already a few relaxing glasses of wine in, her soon-to-be idiot ex-husband not in her backyard being a bothersome fool- perhaps she'd have played along. But the circumstances had already eaten up all her patience.

"WHAT do you WANT." She commanded a serious answer, and he gave her one.

"I came to pick up my boy."

"That's hilarious," she said, like there was nothing funny about it. "He's not here."

But Rio already knew that, he'd seen the empty room, and had dropped Eddy off at his mom's house that morning after he'd shown up to the warehouse. If he were being honest, he'd given him quite the earful for stealing the van; But she didn't lie, didn't make excuses, and it fascinated him. It almost Even impressed him. He feigned annoyance anyway, loving the wild, badass look in her eye as she spat the words in his face.

"And by the way," she carried on. "When he left he held me at gunpoint, and then STOLE my CAR!" He made a mental note to give him shit for the gun bit later. "So I'm gonna need payment for that too."

"Oh I'm sorry, what payment?"

"Excuse me?" Beth hated how hot his beligerant tone made her, and she glared right back.

"You get paid when you do a job," he roared. "Did you do a job?"

"I tried."

"I don't give a damn if you try. You gotta win, Bitch!" The words cut sharply, and Beth made a decision then; she'd never make the same rookie mistakes again, because she REALLY wanted to win.

"What was I supposed to do, chain him to the bed?"

Maybe a part of her was asking seriously for advice, but a ghost of a smirk fluttered about Rio's features, who was minutely taken aback by the sudden provocative shift to his thoughts. Several scenarios swept through his mind, all debauched and none of them involving Eddy, that's for sure.

"If that's what you're into," he chuckled darkly. Clearly, it was only amusing to one of them. She remained absolutely livid, and if Beth hadn't remembered the cool metal of the pistol at his waist she very well might have slapped him. Still, the intrigue piqued up like a rabbit from its hole, curious but wary.

"Why would ANYONE be into that," she scoffed dismissively. The words had slipped from her mouth, sarcastic and incredulous all at once, before she had time to think better of it.

"What-" he stalked closer- " Baby, you ain't never let no one take control before?" The Wicked curve of his mouth was smothering. He slid near enough she felt the steady in-out of his lungs, every predatory bit of him only inches away. Her blood thickened in a delightful way despite herself, and maybe it was that he'd called her 'Baby,' but gravity seemed to be pulling her inevitably back towards his lips. Briefly her train of thought wandered; pictured her hands pinned roughly above her naked form on the bed, soft linen against her back, begging for whatever was next but unable to get it. He grinned at her like he knew.

"N- huh!" She huffed. "Why would you even ask me..that!" Beth fumbled out the words, her breathy, scandalized tone earning a smugly quirked brow. A lively shade of red crept up her chest, and her wide blue gaze darted from the bed to his eyes, to his chest, and settled on the floor.

"Mm, nah." He cocked his head to one side, flashing the intricate eagle on his neck. "You brought it up, Darlin'."

That sweet drawl curved around the pet name, twisting up a writhing, fiery desire. She might have kissed him, god knows she wanted to! He was so close she easily could have... had Dean's voice not cut through the delicious tension like a hot knife through a birthday cake. Before she had time to process what just happened Rio was snaking passed her soon to be ex-husband with a pat on his broad shoulder.

...

"We'll give it a shot."

Elizabeth Boland, official money-laundering mother of four, breadwinner, taking care of business. Proposing actual business deals with the king of a crime ring. She was up in the clouds, because she had done good, and she'd done it on her own. She'd said something that someone, Rio no less, had deemed worthy of 'giving a shot.'

"We're not here to try, we're here to win, bitch!" Immediate regret washed over her, but she held her ground. Behind his facade she would swear that he was impressed.

The girls, however, gawked at her as though she had seven heads and a spine outside her body, gathering their things up quickly and hoping nobody got shot up. Ikea was NOT where they'd imagined dying. Annie hurriedly hopped off to snag her daughter after her weekend away with Gregg, all but whistling a tune and clicking her heels with joy. Ruby wrapped a tight arm around Beth's shoulder after scanning her phone, on her way to yet another Job interview. They watched her bustle away, casting a worried glance over her shoulder at the two of them.

When she turned around Beth was a little surprised to see Rio still standing there, and she shrugged. He seemed uncomfortable, unsure.

"I really do need a duvet cover..."

It seemed outrageous that he might do normal things amidst his life of shady crime. That this gangbanger decorated a home and did laundry on the weekends. Beth laughed then, a marvelous, brilliant belly sound that plastered a bashful look to his features, and She got the idea that he might not know where to look. Was the great Rio asking for help?

"Aisle six." Her wrist flicked easily in the general direction, and he nodded once, but neither seemed to be ready to go just yet. Decidedly, Beth strutted past him, her chest brushing his shoulder as she slipped by, heading in the direction of aisle six and trying too hard not to think too much about it.

Side by side the two browsed towards the bedding section, oblivious to the few stares directed their way. Aside from the occasional worried looks from mothers and their children, they were left alone in the aisle.

"So what are we looking for," her tone bright and teasing, "something pretty and Pink I assume?" Amusement tickled her features, a goofy grin plastered on her lips from her own joke. A chuckle quaked in Rio's chest.

"Whatever matches my bed I Guess." He shrugged, and Beth paused, wondering what his room might look like. She suddenly felt like a twelve year old girl, thinking about a boy and blushing when he walked by.

"I don't know what your bed looks like," she stated, obviously. He simply blinked those big brown orbs at her, his tanned face a blank slate as His mind flashed vividly to things less than appropriate for an Ikea conversation. Her moans drowned his mind, glimpses of her pale skin writhing upon his bedspread turning him to stone. "You're going to have to tell me about it.." She ticked her tongue when he offered no answers, his thoughts sinking further and further into the gutter. She began aimlessly searching the shelves, checking the sizes, while he imagined her grasping him for the first time.

"Rio, how big is it.." she trailed off thoughtfully. When she looked at his face he shifted, looking down at his pants and back up to her, eyes popping out of his skull. The gush of red poured generously over Beth from head to toe.

"OH MY GOD YOUR BED!" She squealed, earning her a deep, wicked laugh.

"Oh it's big," he drawled as he stalked towards her, a devious glint in his eyes. "Yeah, real big." She meant it to be a snicker, but a heady breathless sound erupted instead. Whirling back to the shelves she fumbled through the packages, checking all the sizes again. She did her best to ignore the uncomfortable, needy ache in the cradle of her hips.

"So King size then," she cleared her throat, groaning inwardly and awaiting the cheeky comment she knew was to come. Sneaking a peak his way, she rolled her eyes while he waggled his brows.

"How about the white ones," she asked, fiddling with the package, "those are pretty neutral. Or grey?"

He offered no reply, and instead she felt a hot weight pressing into her back. The hairs at the nape of her neck standing at attention, reaching and straining for his skin as best they could, as though he were the last drop of water on earth. Rio reached around her shoulder to pluck a packet from the selection, a silk in crimson red. He paused to hum his reply into her ear, barely above a whisper.

"Mm, I'm thinking I want Red." His teasing moan struck her like a lightning bolt, and for the briefest moment she melted into him. His heated breath grazed her ear, and she forgot where they were as she remembered how it felt when he had nibbled on it. How he'd bent her over the furniture, how he'd made her-

"BETH!" an agonizingly familiar voice nagged at her senses, both moving away quickly from the other. A stocky built women bustled down the aisle, brown locks cropped just below her chin. She bumbled towards the pair dressed in the typical PTA fashion; long sleeved mustard sweatshirt with blue jeans and calf length beige boots.

"Beth! How have you been, I feel like I've hardly seen you around." She patted Beth's forearm fondly, rambling on as though oblivious to the tension. "Samara has been chatting my ear off since Kenny's party, how did you pull it off?"

"Oh thanks Martha! It really wasn't that crazy, I just got a killer deal for the bounce house," Beth offered vaguely, a tight smile etched over her lips.

"But with everything going on with your husband? I mean the affair and the gambling.. we were just surprised you had a party at all!"

Beth clenched her teeth, hating the pitying words that had been chasing her since the news came out. It was no secret how fast word travelled amongst the gossips of her world, how friends were usually your enemy and assumptions were usually spot on. Everyone always wanted to be the first to know, the one to spill the beans over the crowd on someone else's chaotic nightmares. While Rio's face held no hint of anything, a nonchalant mask of indifference, somewhere behind his eyes she could have sworn she saw fire. Martha's attention snapped to Rio just then, and Beth winced right down to her soul, a few choice curse words ringing through her thoughts.

"Who's your friend?" Martha's voice was plain, assuming, as though perhaps Dean wasn't the only one sleeping around the entire time. He defiantly jutted his chin at her, daring and challenging. He hadn't flared his nostrils, but he may as well have.

"You don't remember him from highschool?" Beth tossed on a whim, praying Martha wouldn't see the tense edges in her shoulders. "Hm, I suppose you never paid much attention to anything besides big hair and boy bands though... Anyway we have a busy day ahead, so we should get going." The words had Martha reeling, a nerve plucked by the expert orchestra of diversion.

"What are you up to," she asked, skeptical, and more than a little bitter. Beth waved her hand busily, brushing her aside.

"Just a little redecorating. Sprucing up the new, decluttering the old. Anyway, Take care Marty, see you on Tuesday for carpool pick-up as usual?" Beth didn't bother to wait for an answer, walking towards the checkout with her head high and her confidence booming. Rio shook his head, amused by the petty drama and tingling with pride. This woman was something else, he thought. When they turned the corner out of sight he gave her a smack on the butt, earning a squeal and girlish giggles.

"Damn Mama, quick on your feet. I like that," he murmured thoughtfully, and Beth's Heart swelled ten times it's size at his praise. "So apparently we go way back, yeah?" And though he didn't look at her, he was grinning from ear to ear. Beth waited idly by while he paid, snagging pamphlets on store policy and casually scoping out cameras and security. As they wandered slowly through the parking lot, a clammy silence fluttered between them. It was only when she was standing beside her van that she realized he had parked beside her, the thought bringing a cocky smirk to her lips. He scanned the cars around them, his lips pursed and his eyes no bigger than slits, and she wondered what he was thinking about. She wondered if he'd ever thought about that night he'd come over and danced her around the living room, stealing all breath and coherency from her.

"You wanna come?" He queried in a calculated monotone slur. Her mouth gaped in panic as she fiddled nervously with her leather jacket. Had she wondered aloud? A dark laughed bellowed, and he shook his head knowingly. "To my house," he clarified.

"Yeah, okay." Turning shades near as deep as the bedsheets he'd bought, she climbed into the soft leather on the passengers seat of his low black Cadillac.


	3. Rio's House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you've already read this chapter when it was posted as the second chapter and are feeling confused about it, I made an oops. Turn back to chapter two, and give it a read!

The drive was silent and comfortable. He'd come a long way to meet them there she noted, eyes darting to the time. She pulled her phone from her bag, shooting off a quick text to her sister.

'could you pick up the kids for me? Won't be too late.'

The ding sounded almost immediately.

'sure thing! You're paying for pizza though,' it read, followed by a series of pizza and heart emojis. Beth chuckled, shaking her head. Annie was such a child sometimes, even when she was dependable.

"What's so funny," Rio mumbled pleasantly, if not for the hint of jealousy in his tone.

"It's Annie," Beth felt the need to clarify, though she wasn't sure why. He nodded slow and studiosly. He furrowed a brow, and he opened his mouth to speak several times before clamping it shut. She averted her attention out the window, mindlessly watching the passing of unfamiliar streets and turns. She almost jumped when his voice finally rustled through the car.

"How come you never mentioned your husband was a dirtbag?" He seemed on edge, as though he didn't want to know but couldn't help but ask.

"It never came up," she added with a shrug. He shot her a look of genuine disbelief before focusing back on the road ahead. She let out an unladylike snort. "Between the guns to my head and bloody guys left in my kids' room after robbing you blind didn't really seem like a good time."

"You coulda told me the other day," he suggested, all too brightly. She flushed, reminiscing on their heated evening for the thousandth time.

"It was an eventful night." Her blush spread hotly past her neck and down her back.

"Fair enough," he drawled. She studied him then, admiring his youthful, handsome looks. His buzzed hair growing out slightly looked softer than she remembered. The contrast of his dark hair on his tanned skin gave him an almost exotic appearance, in the way that he was so different from anyone she knew. She wanted to trace the lines of his tattoo peaking over his hoodie, follow them down, see if there were more. She had seen his strong arms, been in them, and the lack of ink had surprised and aroused her. She loved how she could see his muscles in his untouched flesh. He slid his warm eyes over hers, and she looked away, embarrassed to have been caught red-handed. She pressed as far into the door as she could, mentally berating her idiocy. He placed a hand gently over her knee with a reassuring squeeze.

For some reason, it was a huge comfort and she visibly relaxed. Spurred on by his touch, she spoke softly, traces of rage seeping into her words.

"He was sleeping with his secretary. This petite child of a thing, barely legal, and I found out because he bought her the closest thing you can get to dental floss from a lingerie store. I mean, I'd always kind of known, and I really don't think she's the first secret he's kept." Tears burned behind her eyelids, but she blinked them back.

"He lost all our money, wracked up credit card debt, almost lost the house..." She choked up, but continued despite herself. "Our kids could have been homeless because he couldn't own up to his mistakes. So, I-" Beth couldn't finish.

"So you robbed me blind," he offered, a look of awe and understanding in his eyes. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Sorry.."

"S'okay." His voice was gentle, and they drove the rest of the way in silence. When he pulled into an alley, Beth's curiousity piqued. He drove almost to the end before turning into a brick garage, the wide metal door swallowing them whole. She waited for her eyes to adjust as he hopped out of the car grocery bag in hand, and ran around to her side to flick a switch. Light and surprise flooded her senses, and he kindly opened her door for her. Offering his hand, he helped her out of the low seat, not letting go even once she was up. She noticed how tidy it was, an absurd comparison to her chaotic garage full of bicycles and the kid's sporting equipment. He steered her towards the door, and lead her into his house. They were center in a long hallway, a neat beige wall decorated with a tasteful artwork collage. He slipped off his shoes and she followed suit before he tugged her towards his living room. His heart thrummed in his ears, and he was suddenly worried she wouldn't like it. Worried she'd see where he lived, this home he loved, and still think it wasn't enough. He couldn't for the life of him explain what a girl like her was doing with a lowballer like him.

She let go of his hand, handing him her coat, and wandered about the place, running her fingers over his soft leather couches. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to sink into them, they looked so plush and inviting. He took off his sweater, dissappearing down the hall for a moment. She traced the photos on the coffee table, an older looking woman with a younger looking Rio, and an even YOUNGER looking Rio. Bewilderment flashed over her; did he have.. a brother?

"Is this your grandmother?" She asked, not sure if she was allowed to know about his family connections. She noticed the toned flesh of his arms poking out from a plain white t-shirt. He nodded slow, his mask of indifference plastered thick. She was about to press when he spoke.

"And my brother, Fernando." She didn't say anything, and he didn't continue.

"He looks like you," she smiled warmly. Where is he now?" She did her best to sound nonchalant, averting his gaze. He clenched his jaw tight, and that was all the answer she needed. She ached for him, and thought of Annie. She couldn't imagine losing her..

He cleared his throat, gesturing towards the wide wooden arch leading towards the kitchen. As soon as she crossed the threshold her nostrils flooded with honey and spices. If she'd thought the living room was cozy, the kitchen was a damn palace. She drank in the rustic white pinewood cabinetry against the white and gold marble countertops. She glided along the dark hardwood, gawking up into the rows of wooden beams garnishing the cieling. Open shelves filled the empty spaces of the room, plants and spice racks carefully lining each one.

"Rio," she gasped, "your house is so fricken beautiful it hurts!" He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He let the wide smile burst forth across his face, relaxing. She looked good in his kitchen, with her tight black outfit and perfectly curled hair.

"You hungry?" He asked, surprising her. Beth realized she hadn't eaten all day, too caught up in her excitement to pitch him their idea. She bobbed her head, uncertain but honest. He motioned to the barstool, which she gladly perched atop, before busying himself about the space. He seemed at ease here, dancing about the room, and she was delighted to watch him. After laying out everything he'd need, he washed his hands, wiping them on a plush little towel hanging from the bar of the oven door. He glanced to her, nodded to himself, and settled on pouring her a tall glass of white wine. She scrunched her nose, not wanting to be rude, but she had never been a fan of white wine.

"What, you don't drink no more?" He teased. She snickered.

"I'm not a big white wine drinker," she admitted with a tiny shrug. He flipped his head playfully side to side.

"Baby, that's because you ain't never had this one, trust me." He sauntered to her side of the island, holding the wine up to her face, twirling it about the glass and sending lavish wafts up to her nose. Her eyelids drifted shut, inhaling the slightly sweet scent. When she gazed back at him he was watching her with a ferocious intensity, a dark hunger brewing between them. She didn't draw away when he brought his hand up behind her neck, letting him tilt her head back. She parted her mouth, and he pressed the cool glass ever so slightly to her lips. He poured into her mouth for a second, an intoxicating taste like nothing she'd ever had before hitting her tongue. As it dropped easily down her throat she let out a deep moan, her tongue flicking out of its own accord to lick the droplets running down the edge of the crystal. His fingers tangled in her hair, firm yet gentle, and without breaking eye contact he set the wine down on the countertop.

When he kissed her it was slow and full, as though he was savouring every bit of her decadent mouth. The heady combination of her plus the wine burned through him, and it was a great show of willpower when he drew back as he felt her deepening the kiss. God, she drove him crazier than anything in this world. She was a drug, and he couldn't seem to get enough.

"You wantin' dinner, Mama?" His voice thundered deviously through his raw throat. "Because if you don't quit lookin at me with them eyes I'm gonna take you to bed and have somethin' else."

Her panties flooded and her eyes hooded over, and Beth became VERY aware of her breathing. She rattled her head like an etch-a-sketch, though it did nothing to clear the dirty thoughts.

"Where's your bathroom," she squeaked. Heavy-lidded, he nodded back towards the entrance.

"Down the hall."

She slipped off the stool and slunk from the room, conscious and wary of each step. Once she was out of view she felt the tension seeping from her limbs, keen once again on exploring. She made her way up the hall, recognizing the mild Spanish flare that tinged the finer details in his collage. She paused to grab her bag off the hook on the wall. Further down the dim hall she found the bathroom, as grand yet simple as the kitchen. Gold accents on baby blue, with a large white tiled walk in rain shower left her in awe. The entire wall above the vanity was mirror, and within it she glimpsed the New Beth; Unholstered and fully loaded, ready for anything. She had a wild, dangerous look to her, and it was thrilling. It had been far too long since she'd loved her reflection, she realized. Years locked in a fading marriage was enough to break even the toughest of women, to harden their hearts and steal the bubbling joy of youth. But here she saw her flushed cheeks and her full lips. She saw every desirable dip of voluptuous curves, her steel blue eyes so full of lust and power. She smiled at herself, as though they were old friends. Beth spent some time touching up her makeup, adding hints of smokey eyes and a little extra eyeliner. She looked fierce and young, and she loved it. Tugging her ruffled outfit back into tip top shape, she peaked out of the bathroom and straight into the room across the hall. The bedroom. Similar fashion to the rest of the home, all raw wood furniture and contrasting dark walls, she felt almost guilty for plunging into his personal life. His bedroom radiated the same bold confidence he held, not in your face but still sure of itself.

First she poked her head in, then a daring foot, and before she knew it she was across the room running her fingers over the freshly covered duvet. She soothed the crimson fabric with wide palms, loving the sinking feeling she found. The wide bed, definitely a king size, tempted her with its vastness, it's plump softness, and she longed to dive into it. The urge felt very childish, and she giggled a little as she strutted towards the dresser. There she found a long-faded photo of a girl, beautiful of face wearing a patterned summer dress, red, but perhaps orange or brown. Rio's face roared within her own, confident and edgy and kind.

"Figures you'd be in here," his gruff voice spooked her, and she nearly flung the photo out of reflex. The faint ghost of a promising meal drifted in from the kitchen.

"Your mother?" He gave a calculating nod. "You have her fire," she murmured back. Rio looked past her, no doubt heavy memories swimming in a heavy pool of memories.

"Food's done," he stated. He was tense, his features sharp and cold. Beth nearly flinched at the energy radiating off of him. She shifted under her weight, uncertainty pummeling within her ribcage and up into her throat. As she shuffled around the sturdy wooden bedframe, he was on her faster than she could blink, their mouths crashing together.

It surprised her, but soon she was lost in their kiss, coherency gone with the wind he took from her. He roughly backed them towards the bed, demanding and brutal in his taking. She gave him everything he asked for, calling out when he ground his hips into her. He bit down her throat, savage and delicious, a wild animal of need goading him on.

"You know how fucking hard it makes me just to see you beside my bed?" He growled. "How crazy I feel wit you?" He nipped down her chest, tugging her shirt up to reveal the lace on silk fabric of her bra.

"I've thought about this every damn day since that night at your house." She whimpered into him, his words destroying her.

"So when I find you here," he tugged her bra down, revealing the perfectly dark circles of her nipples. "In my damn bedroom lookin the way you do," he bit down on one, soothing it with his tongue. She cried out in pain, then agonizing pleasure. "Tasting the way you taste?" He hissed, kissing a trail lower to leave a mark on her waistline. "It drives me nuts, Elizabeth," it was barely a whisper, the hot air blushing across her wet skin Making her shiver. She trembled beneath him, flushed and needy. She needed him like water in the desert. She rasped his name, begging, craving, hungry for more...

And then his body was gone just as quickly as it had descended, his eyes ablaze at the foot of the bed. She reached for him, but his tall form was predator-quick.

"But I cooked you a meal, woman," he groaned, wiping the glistening saliva from his face. "And who am I to deprive a lady?" He gave her a gorgeous smile, if not a little agonized. With gentleman's grace, he helped her up from the bed, sorting her clothes tenderly and pointing her in the direction of the doorway. He smacked her rump playfully, and she huffed in air while he followed her lead, all too aware of his eyes on her backside as she walked.


	4. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tension between these two is just... Catastrophic for my poor heart. Seriously, I can't take it. Season two better hurry up!

The aromatic burst reverberated within the hollows of Beth's belly as they traveled through the house. The closer they got, the more she was aware of how ravenous she really was. Inhaling deeply, she groaned her exhale, titilated not only by the food, but the fact that he'd created whatever slice of heaven awaited. For her. He'd cooked for HER; it was something Dean never did. Unless you count grilled smokies and burgers, which she didn't, really.

Just as she was about to enter through the wooden archway one of Rio's giant hands snaked around her slim wrist. He twirled her gracefully with a growl, bringing her body flush against his as he crashed their lips together.

"I mean it, knock it off with them sounds, Mama." He murmured the words against her lips, and she battled between needing him and needing to feast. In the end, hunger won out and she was seated back in the barstool as he flitted about the kitchen dishing out their plates. He set a magnificent pile of rice topped with chicken and something else, a pool of delicious looking orange sauce climbing down into the plump grains. It all looked so good that Beth could have cried.

"Eat up Darlin', you're gonna need it," he added with a devious wink, topping up her glass of wine and setting one for himself before landing on the stool beside her. Beth brought a forkful to her mouth, relishing in the flavors like nothing she'd ever had before.

"Rio, this is AMAZING!" He blushed, a feat she nearly missed under his tanned skin.

"Family recipe," he shrugged, but she could see how giddy he was. He watched her devour the whole plate in record time with an elegance only she could pull off, amazed and satisfied. When she sat back in her chair patting her tummy fondly, he nearly choked on a bit of chorizo. She wet her lips before enjoying a small slug of wine, another moan slipping forth.

"It's even better with your food," she decided, sipping some more. As he swallowed his last mouthful, pushing their plates away, desire flooded his gaze tenfold.

"How long til' you gotta be home?" He rasped, catching her breath in her throat. A small shudder rippled through her, and he definitely noticed. He stood up and drew close, looming over her in a way that clouded her senses.

"I have time," she huffed, eyelids fluttering slightly.

"Good," he whispered back against her lips. When he kissed her it was slow and passionate, like they had all the time in the world. Beth shifted, spreading her thighs and welcoming him between her knees. His palms worked any and every piece of her body they could reach before he wrapped them under her backside and lifted her up into his arms. She squealed, self conscious of every ounce of post-baby weight she'd acquired, but he didn't seem to notice. He made her feel light as a feather as he whisked them to the living room, setting her down on the couch and hovering his weight over her. She lay back, loving how she sunk into the plush leather, everything she'd hoped the sofa would be. She wanted one for herself, to always feel this comfortable.

"Where did you get this couch," she gasped, his tongue pulling at her earlobe.

"Shut up," he grunted, and she laughed. Her laugh became a moan as he ground his hips into hers, almost exactly where she needed it but not quite. Spurred on by desire she pushed against his chest and, without warning, expertly flipped them over so he was sitting with her straddling his lap. He looked up at her in awe, and she'd never felt more beautiful. It gave her the confidence to tilt his head back, taking the kiss from him, taking control. And he let her, loving the way she whimpered and grinded against him. She dropped her mouth lower, leaving marks as she went. One behind his ear, one under his jaw, and on his neck below his tattoo. The pesky neckline of his t-shirt seemed to be in her way, and he felt the soft, warm pads of her thumbs slip over his hips. Following her lead, he complied as she tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side.

And she saw him then for the first time, every subtle ripple of muscle, defined yet not in the way magazine models always looked. He looked real; sexy and flawless, but real. She tickled her fingertips over his bare chest, up to the tribal looking tattoo that graced his shoulder. She was mildly surprised he didn't have more ink, but appreciated the sight of his skin glowing against her pale hands. She dipped her head to kiss him again, his hands guiding her waist in a steady rhythm over his. She pulled back only to toss her shirt away, his hands already working at the clasp of her bra. As it popped free he tossed it into the pile. He ogled the sight of her full tits, palming them with his wife hands. Her eyes fluttered shut when his thumbs rolled over her nipples. He took one into his mouth, soothing it deliciously with his tongue before biting down, earning him a high keening sound as she clutched at the back of his neck.

"You like that?" He growled. She let him flip them back over, laying beneath him as he kissed down her body. Beth lifted her hips so he could remove her tedious jeans, and she was left only in her lacey blue panties. Time stopped cold in its tracks as his tongue flicked hotly over the waistband, a striking combination of anxiety and desire filling her to the brim. He felt her tense, uncertainty etched all over her features, and he briefly wondered if maybe she didn't want to do this after all. Maybe she didn't want him. He pulled back, searching her face until it grew too much for her and she had to look away.

"We don't gotta do this.." Rio hid all the rejection from his voice, but it was there and she read it like the back of her hand.

"No, I want this," she exclaimed, pulling him in to lock their lips. "I just.. I haven't been with anyone else." She couldn't meet his eyes, settling to burn holes through the couch Instead. He thought on that for a moment, soaking it in.

"Its been a really long time, and it's never been like this before. I feel like I won't be.. good at.. this" she blurted, gesturing between them.

He couldn't believe she held this much power over him and didn't even realize it. She was this rare, mostly untouched creature, this beautiful, elusive wild thing. He cupped her chin, dragging her lips to his and holding her gaze.

"Elizabeth," he whispered. "You're so fucking beautiful. You don't gotta be shy wit me."

Their slow locking of lips turned into a frenzy of need, and Rio lost the rest of his clothes somewhere in the storm. There was nothing else but this moment; the way their skin felt together, the musical sounds pouring from their chests. Again his fingers found her underwear, and she jerked her hips up to meet his hand when they ghosted over her clit. Agonizingly slow, he trailed them down to her wet slit, easily pushing her thong aside to sheath a finger inside her.

"Rio," she choked out, his kryptonite. He pulled out slow, only to add a second finger as he plunged back in.

"You're so fucking wet for me," he ground out through clenched teeth. He wanted nothing more than to plow into her, but he'd thought of this far too much to let it end so soon. Dipping his head between her thighs, he pressed his tongue firmly against her clit. It was a new sensation, Dean had never gone down on her, and a high keening sound rung out.

She whimpered and squirmed, needing more. As she wiggled exoticly beneath him, he found a spot inside her pussy that lit stars behind her eyelids. He grunted appreciatively at the cries tumbling from her, her hair wild and her cheeks flushed. Rio brushed his knuckles hard against the rough patch, again, and again, until she was dripping and abandoned, loving the way he could make her lose control. She fisted the leather as best she could, teetering on the edge of her climax. With a devilish grin, Rio placed his free hand over her own and guided it to her already pulsing core. He helped her rub at her clit until her fingers moved of their own accord, and he nearly came at the wanton sight of her touching herself.

"That's it Baby," he purred. "You gonna cum for me?" He pumped into her with vigor, and he didn't stop until she was clenching tightly around him and her head was thrashing, a choked wail somewhat resembling his name barely making it past her tongue.

"Fuck," she panted, coming down from her high. And God, Even when she cursed she sounded like an angel. She gave him her brightest grin, stealing whatever was left of his breath away as she sunk off the couch to the floor, propping herself up between his knees. Rio made himself comfortable, one arm up over the backrest and the other languidly skimming through the hairs by her ear. He caressed down her jaw, thumbing tenderly at her full Lower lip. Beth flicked her tongue over the finger, suckling it slowly, tasting the tangy sweetness of herself with a challenge glinting in her eye. He gazed down at her, his face intense yet blank as he watched her every move. Still, she could see how much she was affecting him, and it gave her courage. Pulling back from his hand she bent to take the tip of his cock in her mouth. He was bigger than she was used to, both in girth and length, and she did her best not to feel intimidated. The velvety smoothness of his shaft slipped easily into her throat, and she hummed her approval. With a loud smack, he popped from her lips, and she used her tongue to massage up the underside of his penis.

"You're killin me Elizabeth," he murmured, resting his head on the back of the seat. He balled his fists in her hair, not sure if he wanted to pull her off and fuck the living daylights out of her, or if he wanted the assault of her swollen mouth to continue. And then he was all the way down her throat, and he couldn't think anymore. All there was was her mouth, and the way her tongue kept sliding against him even with his entire length swallowed, and he'd be damned if he didn't have to force his eyes open so he could burn this image into his brain forever. He could have busted a nut right then with the way her wide ocean eyes were staring up at him, and he gave a firm tug on her hair, hauling her off him with a growl. The way she shuddered as he pulled on her fiery locks didn't go unnoticed.

"Stand up," he commanded, and she shot to her feet. His eyes roved over her body, affecting her just as much as if it were his expert hands. Figures that now is the only time she listened to him.

"Tell me what you want, Baby," he challenged, barely moving his lips as he spoke. He could see that she was unsure, not used to talking in the bedroom. Still, he always pushed her, loving the way she rose to his expectations.

"I want.." she began, blushing furiously. He cocked a brow at her expectantly. "I want you to fuck me." His impossibly dark eyes darkened further.

"See, I'm just not sure you want it as badly as I do," he teased. She licked her lips and shifted her weight, desperatetion between her sopping thighs. "Show me how much you want it, Elizabeth."

Beth held her head high as she stepped in close, her knees almost grazing his. Rio's sugar brown eyes held hers steady as she hooked her thumbs around her thong, dropping it down the long, shapely expanse of her legs. When she stepped out of the thin pool of fabric she stood with her feet spread in line with her shoulders, and he waited in calculating anticipation. His posture was so relaxed that, had his rock hard erection not been gawking up at her, she'd have mistaken him for uninterested. But she could see the fruits of her labor, feel it dripping down her legs, and that's what gave her the confidence to slide her fingers over her hips to dip into her pussy. Exploring her folds, providing for herself what her body screamed for, she let out an agonizing, guteral cry. She pushed her own buttons exactly as she liked, tension filling her hips to the brim and zigging through her bones.

"Ah!" She gasped out, "Rio, please?!" And she wasn't sure exactly what she was asking for, what she needed most, but he leaned forwards, bracing his hands behind her thighs, holding her weight.

"Come." It was half a command, half hoarse plea, but she obliged all the same. Trembling and choking on her air, she came for him, and she'd have collapsed if it weren't for his strong arms supporting her as she gripped his shoulders like her life depended on it. He pulled her tenderly into his lap again, soothing her back with his fingers, mumbling into her hair until the tremors stopped.

"You're somethin else, yenno that?" He whispered, eyes alight with admiration and fire. Rio lined his cock up with her clenching pussy, thrusting slowly and fully inside. Just when she didn't think she had anything left in her, the telltale stirring in her belly began to simmer. She rode him slow and hard, taking every generous inch of him to the brim with every pump. His fingers splayed roughly over her ass, guiding her.

"You're so fucking sexy," he rasped, making her whimper with an exceptionally rough jut of his hips. Tanned fingers slipped over her creamy skin, up into the hairs at the back of her neck. He tugged sharply, not enough to hurt her, but enough to make her yelp in a mixture of pleasure and submission. He was completely in control of her; body and soul belonging to him. To only him, he hoped. He took her roughly, his pace slow and measured and passionate as he lapped up her neck, leaving occasional pronounced bites and marks. He overwhelmed her, consumed everything she had to offer and more. As his thrusts grew erratic Beth ground down on him with vigor until he grunted, burrying his face in her shoulder as he spilled over inside of her.

They both came down, panting and well beyond satiated, and Beth's first coherent thought was that she was DEFINITELY grateful he'd made her eat first.


	5. Back in Business

"Would you look at that!" Annie exclaimed, an overly bright smile smeared over her smug face. The ride from Rio's to the grocery store had been booming with conversation, complete with giddy glances and bright cheeky grins. The drive from the grocery store home, however, was anxious and full of doubt; had she really just let a gangster bang her brains out?! She knew next to nothing about this man, yet still she'd hopped into bed with the first guy willing to make her dinner. They hadn't even used a condom. The reel in her mind was spinning out every fact about STDs that she knew when she found herself halfway up the porch, face to face with her little sister's sarcasm.

"What?" Beth blinked, frozen with one foot up on the final step.

"I won't be too late," Annie emphasized mockingly, her voice high as a bird as she flashed air quotes. Crap, Beth thought. She knew there'd be questions, and she REALLY didn't want to answer those questions.

"I'm sorry, Annie," she sighed, her shoulders slumped in defeat. They could both feel how tired she was, and Annie furrowed one of her big brows in concern.

"The kids are all in their beds, mostly intact. Where were you anyway..?"

And what could she tell her? That she was the supposed responsible one, yet she'd made time to put a fun twist on the word gangbanger? That she was lonely and he made her feel incredible emotionally and physically? Beth sure as hell couldn't tell her that the crime got her off in more ways than one, and that she didn't know where to draw the line, or if she even planned to. She shrugged, bumbling bitterly into the house with Annie trailing suspiciously behind. She made her way straight to the kitchen and fetched two glasses and a bottle of the hard stuff.

"Want a drink?" Beth muttered, filling her own and hovering the crisp whiskey over the other. Annie gave a slight nod, and they both took a large swig, hissing at the fire lapping over their tongues. "I slept with someone." Beth blurted after a weighted silence. Annie's eyes widened to saucers, spitting some of her drink and slinging her mouth agape

"YOU DID WHAT?!"

Beth said nothing, because what else was there? It was magnificent, but she was kidding herself if she thought it would go anywhere.

"Like.. today? You did that today? Jesus, girl good for you!"

And then she spilled the entire story, right from the start, about the couch and the looks and the night she'd called for him, editing the facts so as to not clue anything about who it was she'd been screwing. Beth said it was a stranger from a bar, just a nameless nobody from a different side of town. Annie listened with a sister's ear, prodding and snickering at given moments, soaking in every detail. By the time she was finished they'd downed a few more drinks and moved to the couch. Beth held her head heavily in her palms, ashamed, while Annie rested her crossed feel on the sofa, swirling the remainders of her glass in one hand. The other rested over the back of the couch lazily, and she whistled low.

"Damn, sis.. who are you?" She snorted before leaning over to rest a palm over her back, soothing gently. "Hey," she urged, "we've all done things we regret."

"But that's the thing, Annie," Beth sighed. "I don't regret it. It was the most alive I've felt in years, and most genuinely GOOD thing that's happened to me since the kids." Tears welled hot in her ocean eyes. "Am I crazy? Maybe I'm some depraved housewife, kidding myself."

"Hey, don't do that!" Annie cried. "You always psych yourself out. Remember when you picked out your prom dress?" Beth laughed, a light-hearted belly sound.

"Ugh, I chose the tacky, bright blue one! it was like some bad twist on beauty and the beast." She groaned at the memory.

"Yeah, except you were the beast!" They collapsed into a fit of giggles, wiping their eyes after minutes of hilarious memories.

"But the dress you'd tried before, the dark red and gold one that looked bomb AF. You were so hot in it, and you psyched yourself out thinking you couldn't pull it off."

It was a sobering thought, and all those feelings of uncertainty washed over her like a fresh coat of snow. Still, Annie's encouragement lifted a weight in her chest she hadn't even realized was there. Something suffocating and residual she'd loaded from years of unsatisfactory, unrequited marriage.

"So what do I do?"

"Well, what do you want?"

Beth thought long over that; what did she want? It was too late and it was all too fresh for her to think about it, so she settled on a shrug.

"Right now, I want another drink." Annie tipped her glass at her, letting out a whoop.

"Cheers to that!"

...

Rio lay on his sheets, replaying the day like his favorite movie. After dropping her off in the empty parking lot he'd pressed her hard against that mama van and kissed her slowly goodbye. The drive home was long, a sea of thoughts flooding faster than he knew what to do with. Part of him had naively hoped that he could fuck her out of his system, and that it would clear this whole mess up, but instead it left him with a million more unanswerable questions. Cleaning up after their meal was bittersweet, and he found himself torn between needing to erase her and cherishing every damn thing she'd set her fingers on. Sinking the dishes into the scalding, sudsy pool was a torment he relished. As he wiped the ceramic plates, the burning dishwater reminded him of her fiery hair, and the scraping of her nails on his back. When he went to bed, averting his gaze from the couch on his way by, he tossed and turned for hours wondering what the hell had gotten into him.

What was she doing with him, anyway? There was a chance this could all be some sick, twisted game of hearts. He can't say she'd be the first to try; from time to time a woman would come along, cunning and clever, hoping to seduce his power from him. He was always too smart for their tricks, thinking with the head sure on his shoulders rather than falling to his knees naked and defeated. But with Beth it felt different, like she'd rather be the queen at his side than take the throne for herself. He knew how badly she wanted this, wanted him. Since the second he met her he could see it in those eyes, feel it when she trembled beneath him. He knew her better than she even knew herself some days, it seemed. It wasn't some trick, it was like she physically couldn't help herself. But yet...

There was that fire about her, that defiant, challenging, maddening hellcat side, and it scared him. Rio could see the trouble coming a mile away, and yet here he was gasping at the memory of her skin on his, and his fingers in her hair, and how she only took orders in the bedroom. Damn him if all he wanted was to take her every night, and watch her blue eyes light up in his kitchen, but it was the exact shade of soft-ass bullshit that would get him shot or put in prison.

Just as the sun began to peak it's nosey rays through the curtains Rio fell into a deep, troubling sleep. He slept soundly, dreaming both awful and wonderful Dreams. He awoke sometime in the late afternoon to a series of distressed calls and text messages, and with a loud huff and a few choice curse words, he got up to take care of business.

...

Her breakfast conversation with Agent Jimmy Turner had Beth clinging to the edge of her kitchen countertops like they'd offer her a one way ticket out of this mess. She rapped her long pink nails along the marble above his business card, worrying her lower lip with her teeth. She bit so hard there was a hint of blood tainting what little saliva she could muster. When she'd told the girls, Ruby was more focused on Stan finding out, and Annie was... Well, she was THRILLED about the heaping bag of cash she found in the trunk of her car that morning. It was hard to think over the clickity-clackity beat of her manicure, but they seemed to have a nervous mind of their own. After Rio and his boys had refused to take back the cash they'd divyed it up and separated, agreeing they'd all sit on it until Beth could hash out a solid plan.

Though it was the first she'd seen Rio since his house days ago, Annies words left her with the piano hot on her mind. In the end it was her father's comment about daughters having no follow through that had her trudging into a diner, demanding whatever job they had available. She'd used that money to pay for her own music lessons, because she'd be damned if she let her Daddy pay for another damn thing. Inspired, Beth found herself at the mahogany piano hidden deep in the corner of the living room. It had been ages since it was really played, but she was suddenly very grateful for the Christmas tuning her mother had insisted on before she visited. Still, she felt her fingertips dancing over the keys. She played easy warm up jingles to shake out the rusty tunes, before tackling the trickier songs. As she finished what she knew by heart of her repertoire, Beth thanked her lucky stars for the amazing Black Friday price she'd payed for the wooden box of joy. She could vaguely recall the mystical words the shopkeeper had mumbled about what a lifelong treasure instruments in the home could be.

And then it hit her; she shot up like a lightning bolt, digging through cupboards and drawers, until she finally found her old Black Friday map at the back of her crafting closet.

...

The girls were more than eager to let Beth handle the drop. With an animated thumbs up from Annie and a firm 'you got us in this mess, you handle it' face from Ruby, she was sent on her merry way. She prayed that the number she'd gotten from that kid still worked as she fired off a cryptic message, listing a place and time, nothing more. If she were being honest, she'd driven for an hour looking for the ideal spot, when she'd remembered the parking lot under a tree, just on the outskirts of the city where Annie used to bring boys back in highschool. It was the perfect halfway point between their houses. As she waited, music pumping while Beth overlooked the city stretching before her, time slipped by. He was nearly half an hour late, but she hadn't expected any different. The low rumble of his car was her first tipoff to his arrival, and she smoothed her features over, checking her hair in the rearview mirror as she unlocked the doors to her van.

'Play it cool,' she chastised, doing her best to pretend not to notice him. His lithe form slunk into the passenger seat with ease, also choosing to look into the valley of lights and highway before them. The rush of cold air from his entry had turned her nipples to stone, and he struggled to ignore it. Instead, he averted his attention to the tree, the only thing on the cliffside besides their cars. It really was quite beautiful. Finally, turning the tunes down to a more conversation friendly level, Beth stretched an arm into the backseat and pulled the black gym bag onto his lap.

"It's all there," she declared in her best nonchalant tone. His eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"You're two days early."

"I didn't want to have it around, not when the FBI is knocking about."

Damn this woman, no doubt the mastermind, never ceased to impress him. Even as he pushed her away she weaseled her way in. Slowly Rio began to count it out. Not because he didn't trust them, he knew they were smart enough to make sure not to fuck him over, even accidentally. He just... Wasn't really ready to get out of the car yet.

He sensed she was more nervous than she let on, but he couldn't afford to hold her hand through the heat. Rio needed to know for sure that she could handle her own when things got serious, otherwise she had no business being in his business.

"So what do I say?"

"To who?"

"The FBI," she exasperated, "what do I tell them?" He still hadn't even looked at her, but her eyes bore into the side of his skull as though they could drill some sense into him.

"They ain't got nothin'," he shrugged casually, shaking his head as though to rid himself of the whole conversation. She was pretty sure he was just fiddling with the money now, because he'd been fluttering through the same stack of cash for a while. Her eyes narrowed.

"They've got a picture of you!"

"That ain't special," he drawled, finally meeting her eye. "I'm on Facebook too. Your cut," he mumbled as he handed her the wad he owed her, and made to get out of the vehicle. Panic welled in her throat, and she reached for his arm, begging him to wait in her shrill voice. She hated this distance between them, his hard shell of impenetrable cold. But she should have known better, he'd gotten what he wanted from her and now she was just another employee. He saw the hurt in her features, and he relented slightly. It had been a busy day, hard and frustrating and she wasn't the first one, by far, to test his patience this afternoon. With a sigh, he pressed his fingers into his eyes, mustering up as much composure as he could before closing the door and resting his weary head on the seat.

"Listen," he began in a voice of pure milk and honey "in my line of work, if you don't have the FBI on your back you ain't makin' noise." He locked her in a reassuring stare, noticing every worried crease tinting her porcelain face. There was something pleading in her features, and pain. And suddenly, though he wasn't totally sure where it came from, there was anger too.

"I don't want to make noise," she blurted. She couldn't afford to do the time for this, she had children. "They're gonna want to know what someone like me is doing with someone like you."

A warm, familiar grin washed over his mouth, and suddenly he was the Rio she had hoped to meet with, and she watched his chocolate eyes swim with mischief through half-lidded lashes.

"What ARE you doing with someone like me?"

And there it was, the puzzle he'd wracked his brain far too many hours over trying to sort out. He read her wide eyed panic, drank in the telltale flush of her cheeks. And just like that he wanted her all over again, despite the distance he'd tried to create, and the wall he was trying to build between them. More than he wanted her to want him, he wanted to hear her admit it. Her wide blue eyes searched his, deciding if she could say what she wanted, what she REALLY was doing here with him. As much as it was the thrill and the money, that wasn't all it was.

"Well obviously I can't tell them that," she glared. He smirked at her, casting a knowing look over her body like he was onto something she didn't have a clue of.

"Right, right." Beth swallowed thickly at the hungry trail of his eyes. "Alright, so tell them I was hittin' it."

She must have heard him wrong. He couldn't possibly expect her to... She shook her head furiously.

"What?"

"Oh I'm sorry sweetheart, tell them.. we were making love." There was a dangerous glint in his stare, almost challenging. Making love; was he mocking her? Beth couldn't form a word to save her life, her brain not quite caught up with her lips. How could she say they were making love, it wasn't like that. Still, if she thought back, he was a more considerate partner in the bedroom than her husband had ever been, even in his prime, and the passion had been something straight out of a movie. But he was Rio, the perfect, youthful leader of a crime ring, ruling with an elegant fury, and she was.. Beth. No, it wasn't making love, it was Beth blowing off steam and Rio taking a power trip. Maybe the FBI should ask what HE was doing with HER. She looked to the cieling, suddenly very ashamed that she'd been so naked and foolish before him. TWICE! Maybe he'd known the FBI would be on her tail, in the way he always seemed to know everything. Perhaps he was covering his ass by making sure her lies had too much truth to them to be disbelieved.

"H-oh-how do I even.. say that?" And he laughed while she shook the tension from her limbs, jolly and beaming his brightest, toothy smile in Beth's direction. She didn't think she'd ever seen him smile with his teeth before, but it was brilliant, and it shot straight to her gut. She cursed herself for it.

"You'll think of something," he waggled a brow at her. "Make me sound good though, yeah?"

The crisp autumn breeze rushed through the opening door yet again, a cold slap in the face that startled Beth from her stupid, lustful trance. She cursed herself all the way home for thinking it had all been something it wasn't, and Rio chastised himself for letting her under his skin yet again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise surprise! I had planned to hide this one away until I'd finished the next chapter, but that one is still on the burner and I'm about to get a bit busier. So this is to tide you lovelies over until I can get the next one out! 
> 
> I'm loving the support and the reviews and kudos, I really appreciate it.


	6. I Solemnly Swear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wonderful humans are amazing for waiting patiently. This chapter is more plot based, but smut is soon to... Come :P

The dim room, lit only by a single, dusty overhead bulb, smelled of stale coffee and printer ink. Aside from a few cookie cutter landscapes in neat black and white frames hanging on the wall, it was a very impersonal room. It somewhat reminded Beth of the vague hospital scenery she'd visited earlier that day, only darker and she hadn't been quite so nervous there as she was now. From the moment she'd walked into the station she'd been greeted with warmth and confusion, as though a girl like her didn't belong in any story that should involve the FBI, and it left her feeling way out of her element. She tried not to fiddle too much as she waited, hoping not to appear on edge or like she was hiding something.

Agent Turner pushed through the half opened door, closing it fully behind him. She immediately plastered on her game face.

"Mrs. Boland," he beamed cheerfully. "Can I get you anything? Coffee?" Perhaps she waited slightly too long to reply, but she was trying to think of something light and witty.

"Oh," she chuckled. "You drink coffee at this hour?"

"I don't sleep much anyway. You?" A grin brightened his face, an approachable picture of friendliness. She wondered if he'd even bothered bringing a gun, or if he thought so little of her that she couldn't possibly pose any form of a threat. Maybe he was expecting her to cave under his normality, thinking she'd see he was a regular joe just like her and spill a story of how a thug had trampled unwanted into her perfect life. But she knew something he didn't, and she wasn't going to let her dutiful, doting housewife visage go to waste. For once, she was grateful for her appearance, because nobody would ever suspect her. Here was a man who thought she'd been taken advantage of, that crime had no business being in her world. Underestimating her.

"I had an affair," Beth declared suddenly. She held her head high as she spoke surely, and Agent Turner was visibly taken aback.

He repeated her words, slowly, as though to soak them in through numb memorization.

"I'm not proud of it, and it's over now. But that's why he was at the house, and that's why I couldn't say anything in front of my husband and my children."

"Oh." He nodded his head, fiddling his fingers while pondering over her words with a blank expression. She could practically see the wheels turning for a minute before he spoke again, more gentle than before. "Well, okay then."

"Okay." And that was that, she'd done what she was supposed to do, and the FBI got all the answers they needed. She moved to collect her bag, rising from her chair and making hastily for the door. No wonder Rio hadn't seemed worried, it was much easier than she'd expected. Her fingers wrapped around the cool metal of the handle, and she heard him draw in a sharp intake of air.

"Just out of curiosity," he called. "Where'd you meet him?" There was something sinister in the knowing casuality of his tone, and she realized that he hadn't underestimated her at all. He was a damn FBI agent for Christ's sake. She felt like a rabbit in headlights as he stared her down, challenging her to fall further and further into her lie. "Just wondering where a nice lady like you meets an inner-city gangbanger." He raised a brow at her, mocking and smug. "PTA? Or is it like a speed dating thing? What's that website, Just Lunch?"

She cocked her head to the side, and tried to sound casual, thinking off the top of her flustered head. "At a bar." He didn't even miss a beat as he fired back deadpan.

"What was he wearing?"

What he always wore. "Jeans."

"What about you?"

"Dress," like she always does if he's around.

"Where did you meet him?"

"At a restaurant." But the answer felt wrong, and she hoped he wouldn't catch it amidst this relentless game of badgering.

"You just said bar."

"A bar-restaurant. They had food," she said, frustration dripping thick. If he wanted to get a rise out of her, she sure wasn't doing a very fine job of holding it together.

"What was the name."

She paused, forcing her jumbled brain to think. What was the name of thay bar she and the girls had gone to last fall for Annie's birthday. Lucy's? Lacey's?

"Lucky's," she answered smoothly.

"I bet they'd remember a pair like you." The minor threat hung heavy in the air, and Beth knew she'd have to step her game up. "Who drove?"

She cocked her head, unsure. "You or him," he repeated. "Who drove?"

"Um, we both did," she mumbled, hating the high pitched squeezed of her throat.

"What kind of car does he drive?" To this she genuinely had to think for the answer.

"Black BMW," she thought, though in all honesty she only really recognized it by the cat-like headlights in the dark.

"It'd be registering," he nodded. "I'll check it."

"Maybe a Cadillac," Beth countered coyly. She gave a small shrug for good measure, praying she wasn't screwing this whole thing up.

"Maybe," he uttered, and she could tell he hadn't believed a word she said. Perhaps she'd been too hasty in her answers. They locked gazes for much too long, and Beth's heart pounded fasted within her ribs. He dismissed her with a simple and formal "Goodnight," and set about filling out the paperwork on his desk. Rio's smooth voice sang behind her ears, distant and hollow:

' _tell them I was hittin' it._ ' But that hadn't worked, had it?  _'alright, so tell them.. we were makin' love.'_

And wasn't that the thing with lying? The kicker was how it always rolled out easier when it had a non-functional flare to it. So maybe they weren't lovers, but he sure as hell screwed like one. Beth Boland had waltzed into a lion's den with a hand she could play to her advantages, in more ways than one. Inspired and determined, Beth sat back in the chair. Her spine rose to a proud posture while her voice dropped low and she purred out a story. She weaved in some truth for good meal, adding fact to blend and smooth out the sharp edges of her lies.

"It was a one night stand. I had just found out my husband was cheating on me with a child, more or less." Jimmy leaned back in his chair, sinking his teeth deep in the details, picking them apart inch by inch. "I was lonely, and angry," she bit out, allowing real bitterness to seep into her voice. "And normally the thought of sleeping with a complete stranger would repulse me, but it didn't that day."

_Her mind flashed to their bodies writhing upon his couch. A healthy flush rose in her cheeks, and she glowed with the memory._

"I dropped the kids off at school and went straight to the bar." She could see it behind her eyes, and could tell that he did too.

"Where was your husband?"

"Screwing his secretary and losing all our money," she spat.

"Fair enough." If she didn't know any better, she'd have sworn that was pity in his eyes.

"We drank a little, and I invited him back to my house. And we drank a little more."

_Sweat slicked skin danced through her mind. Tan on ivory, fast and hard and brilliant._

"And then I realized what I was doing was insane," she mused. "And I told him to go."

Agent Turner cocked his head to one side, his face impassive. She held his gaze locked in her own, Rio's honey drawl spurring her on.

"And then.. he kissed me," she offered, a tiny smile tugging the corners of her lips. "I kissed him back. He pulled my panties down, and we screwed right there on the kitchen table, on the breakfast dishes. The kids had pancakes; blueberry, if you were wondering." The fire on her tongue cut through his steely visage, and he flashed her a thin, apologetic smile. "It only happened once, and I've never seen that man again. And I don't plan to."

He flashed her a look, cold and calculating. With a frown he finally murmured:

"Thank you for coming in." Beth hesitated, searching his features until she was sure that would be the end of this whole endeavor. Satisfied, she stood and made again for the door. Halfway out he called her name, warned her about being cautious of whom she allowed into her home. She told him she was tougher than she looked and whirled on her tall black heel, strutting out into the cool evening breeze.

...

The three of them sat comfortably in Annie's dingy living room. The space was a welcomed contrast to the crisp autumn air, decorated in similar fall fashions of oranges and yellows and Afghans. Sadie was out with her stepmom for some one on one bonding, so Annie was already annoyed, typing furiously to her lawyer over Facebook. Ruby was understandably glum in light of the recent hospitalization of her baby, but beyond thrilled to finally have Sarah at home. It was a long battle ahead of them, and she wanted an out before they got in too deep. Beth couldn't help but think that if it were she who had a wonderfully loving husband, like goofy, thoughtful Stan, how the risks might seem to outweigh the cash bonus that awaited at the end of every job.

But Beth didn't have that, and the money was ripe for the taking. So perhaps all Ruby needed was a little... More for the taking. As she stared at the bag of cleaned bills on the countertop an idea struck her blind, until it was all she could think about. The thought of going back to her old life was sickening. When they pulled into the park behind Annie's old middle school, earlier than usual, they strategized on how to go about gaining their freedom and she tuned them out. While the other two bickered forth and back, Beth's mind was on the rapidly changing seasons. It was barely eight o'clock, but they were already knew deep in the darkness, and it made her feel like a teenage girl again, sneaking out late to see a boy. The seasons of her life were shifting just as rapidly; one day she was cold and dead as winter. She had been a wife and homemaker, snipping crusts and pretending she didn't see the dirty indescretions of her moronic husband. Yet the next day? Well, this next day she was spring, blooming band blossoming with her colours and gifts. She was bringing home the bacon, making ends meet how she could. She was strong and sexy and had caught both the eye and the favor of a gang leader.

"It's not a college internship," Annie hollered. "We can't be like 'thanks bye, I learned so much!' There is no getting out."

"Outta what," Rio quipped, sending ice and electricity down their spines. He and his boys seemed to appear from nowhere. Typical. The moment she laid her eyes on him, and the salty pucker of his lips beneath half slitted eyes, Beth knew he was annoyed. How much had he heard? Maybe his frustrations weren't quite directed at them, but if she let the girls try to swindle their way out of his money making business, she couldn't be sure it would go well. She stood in his presence, as she usually did when she was dealing with his money, and Annie tried her best to muster the same calm composure. She failed miserably, unsure and switching between sitting and standing multiple times before deciding to stand slightly behind her sister.

If Rio hadn't had such a rough day that he feared was about to become a little less pleasant, he'd had gotten an chuckle out over how drastically small it made Annie appear. He wore a casual black outfit, something you'd see in a typical coffee shop complete with a grey beanie. He looked so.. average.

"We've Uhm.. we've been thinking," began Ruby, clearing her throat of jitters. "Just about, you know, your whole operation and our small role in it. And we've learned so much..."

"But it's not working for us." Beth inhaled a steadying breath, praying the girls wouldn't best her to death for this once they got home. She handed him the surprisingly hefty bag.

"How so?" It was now or never.

"We need more." If looks could kill, Ruby would have brutally murdered her, and Annie might have just died anyway from the shock. Still, Beth fluffed up her business and sales voice, building her argument with lush confidence. "We've been clearing, about what? A hundred grand every few weeks for you?"

He couldn't take his eyes off her, a sneaky grin flirting over his pink lips. God, this woman was an angel of the shadows he lived in. Rio loved the thick throatyness of her tone, how she commanded his audience. Clearly she'd done her math, unbeknownst to her little trio. For half a second he thought she looked like a boss.

"We're gonna need five times that amount to turn a profit and make it worth our time."

"You want to clean 500G's?" He challenged, a hint of giddy slipping into his features.

"We can do it," she assured lightly. Annie gasped.

"Can we," she squeaked. Annie had never been led astray by her sister, but.. there was a first time for everything right? She couldn't help but fear that maybe this was too dangerous for a first misleading.

"You don't get more time." Rio shook his head, debating whether to call the whole thing off. What if he let her get carried away and she disappointed? He couldn't afford to let his boys see him going easy on some suburban bitches, it just wasn't smart. And Rio always played it smart.

"Not a problem," she shrugged. But he saw her; the terrified look behind her wide blue eyes, and the calculating tone. She wasn't making a rash fool's error, she had thought it through and was challenging herself, much like the way he always pushed her just far enough past her limits. "Go big or go home, right?"

Desire flooded his senses, and his decision was made. He'd trust her and she'd know better that to do anything but deliver. He wished he could make the world dissappear, push her against that damn park bench and have his way with her. He wanted to see her squirm and lose control beneath him, to remind her he was in charge. He wanted to tell her she impressed him while he made her cum. But he couldn't, so instead, he settled on handing her exactly what she asked for.

"You brought that Mama van wit' you?" She nodded brightly, and he turned to his boy, Carlos, and told him to load the van. They exchanged a sly smile before he turned light on his feet and slipped back off the way they came, and Beth had never felt so proud of herself in her entire life.


	7. Mailmen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just call us the Mailman"
> 
> "..why?"
> 
> "Because.. we deliver, he Just said!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took me so long. I was in my head too much to write it, and had to take a breather. Tossed in more plot so I can keep it going, and I'm happy with the way the characters feel like real people, flaws and uncertainty and all. Here's a new chapter, I'm off to write another in (hopefully!!!!) a timely fashion!

He stalked towards the three women sitting pretty on the swings, side by side and completely at ease. They hardly acknowledging his arrival, and he knew they'd somehow, by the grace of God, pulled it off. It did nothing to ease the slashing edges of his run down patience, but was at least one less problem. They chatted loosely, blabbing on about Beth's husband, and the moron that he continued to be. Clearly he was taking her fine ass for granted. Still, he imagined the sort of man she'd be with if she could do it all over, and doubt paraded through Rio like a hungry pack of wolves. A beastly jealousy snarled in his veins, along with a savage barrage of taunting thoughts:

'She'll never be yours, you have no claim on her idiot.'

'Why would a girl like that go for a thug like you?'

  
"How'd it go, ladies?" Rio asked, abandoning his thoughts. He watched Beth hop to her feet, bending down to heave up the weighty black gym bag. He took it from her fingers, surprised she could even lift the damn thing. He admired that she really was tougher than she looked.

"It's all there," she sung proudly, "half a million dollars."

Still, upon his silent orders the looming men set it on the wooden table and began to count. That they wouldn't take her at her word was a gesture which only stung a little, but she did her best not to think on it too much. It was strictly business. Rio sat backwards on the bench and whipped out his phone, his demeanor cool and uninviting. She'd immediately sensed his sour mood, and though she knew better, a question tickled furiously at her lips.

"Let me ask you something," Beth began. She paused to gauge his reaction, or rather the lack thereof, and while he gave no indication that he'd heard her he didn't outright tell her to stuff a sock in it. That seemed to be as good an invitation as she'd get. "How do you not get caught?"

"School ain't in session right now," he murmured, hardly sparing her a glance.

"Hey, come on. We just cleaned half a million dollars for you," she urged in her deep, motherly way. He got the sense she just enjoyed saying that, 'half a million dollars'. There was a note of pleading in her voice, and he bit his cheek feeling like an ass. He couldn't be the guy she wanted him to be simply because they'd shared a few orgasms. Mind shattering as they were, he still needed to hold up appearances. Coddling a frazzled little housewife from the suburbs wasn't exactly an asset to his whole 'dont mess with me' vibe, and it'd be fatal for it to be noticed by the wrong pair of malicious eyes. Yet, like a dumbass gazelle to an oasis, his fingers stilled over the screen and he fixed her with a frustrated look.

"I flip my game," he rumbled. Confusion swept over the girls like a tidal wave.

"..What does that mean?"

"It means I flip my game," he snapped. Rio shoved his phone into his pocket, mad as hell that he couldn't ignore her even when he tried so damn hard. If anyone gave him shit for it, he'd swear he was merely covering his ass and granting advice on how not to mess up their operation.

"She knows all those words individually, but not like.. in a row," Annie chirped. As he rose from the chilled picnic table and stalked towards the trio, only Beth could hold his steely gaze. She didn't shy away like Annie, or even flinch as Ruby did. While he stood before them, some shadowed glint in her eyes reflected that maybe she'd even hoped to draw him closer all along. Gravity pleaded with him to close the gap between their bodies, to slant his lips over hers and trace the edges of her tongue. Instead he planted each of his feet in line with his shoulders as he tipped his head back. A purely magnetic force screeched from his fingers, aching to sink into the skin at her waist, and peel off her coat to see the stunning dress beneath it. Rather than, he clasped his hands loosely in front of his hips. It was a poised, authorative stance; casual, serious, and so very Rio. Beth wet her lips in anticipation, and only thought about kissing him for a second. She couldn't help but note how similar his expression was to when he had been commanding her with debauched orders in his living room, and the memory of it boiled between her thighs.

"Say we're talking herb," he started, flipping her gears. Each word was a drug, and she greedily hung off every one. "Now, you could move nickel Bags all day long. Nickels move fast 'cause everyone knows the nickel bag man, right?" He shifted his gaze to address them all, watching them soak in his metaphor. "That's why his dumb ass is always gettin' popped. The smart ones turn nickels into dimes. Dimes get you to pills, and now you're moving up the chain." Annie nodded her respect, the moral clicking in along with a slight hankering to get high.  
"Before anybody knows what's going on you're on the TV's and whatnot. And while they all got they back turned," he cooed, lolling his head endearingly to the side. "I'm over here with a bunch of suburban bitches selling monopoly money." Ruby made a face, and Beth quirked a brow. "We'll see where that takes me."

Bullet appeared at his side, a grocery bag wrapped around a few thick wads of green bills. Rio nodded to the girls, and the burly thug handed it to them directly. "Count it," Beth ordered.

"It's all there, trust me, 60G's." And despite herself, she did trust him. Perhaps far more than she should, but he'd never lied to her before. He raised his chin, daring her to call him on it, but for once, she didn't. "We up your drop next time, say 750?"

Their eyes widened dramatically, and Beth felt a radiant swell of something she wasn't used to. "Why," she asked, needing to hear him say it. He gave her a small shrug, pouting his lip as he turned away.

"'Cause you delivered."

The smile that erupted could move mountains. It parted the waters of doubt and uncertainty she'd been swimming in, lost, for years, and she saw a future. One where nobody underestimated her, or belittled her into the small, helpless creature the world wrongfully believed her to be.

They were, as Annie teased, the mailman.

  
......

 

Her glare scarcely settled over Dean's wounded puppy dog eyes as she strutted from the house. Shock and ice left him there, frozen and confused, swimming frantically in a sea of illegal cash. Dean was helplessly drowning in the realization that this scorned, mistreated wife of his wasn't at all who he thought her to be; maybe she never had been. Two and then some decades of marriage, albeit a wastful sham of a thing, and he hadn't the slightest idea of who she was. As she climbed into her van she fired off a quick text and made her way to the corresponding location.

"Lucky's - twenty minutes"

There was no reply, but she didn't expect one. Instead, her bedazzled pair of thick black heels marched boldly into a swarm of cheers and intoxication. She dissmisively waved off a few advances from burly, half drunken men. Beth perched atop a stool with her legs crossed daintily, ordering and downing a gin and tonic with a fresh lemon twist. She had two more before a familiar form crept up beside her. The luxurious scent of woodsmoke and cinnamon teased her senses a split second before she felt the heat of a hand firm on her back, and a smile sprung to her lips. Rio arched a brow at her, drinking in the shapely curvature of her hips beneath her form fitting dress. His teeth glistened under the amused slur of his grin.

"Ain't it past bedtime where you live?"

She merely shrugged and sipped slowly at her drink, holding him entranced by the dangerous glint in her eyes. He didn't let her see the taught pull of tense muscles beneath his caramel skin. Rather, with calculated control he bore his eyes into her, searching her face for answers he wasn't sure she'd ever give him. Why him? Why was HE here, and not Annie or Ruby? What the hell were they doing, and how long did he have until she snapped to her senses to pursue someone who could give her.. more than he ever could?

When she spoke it was unhurried and low, and he had to lean in to hear it:

"I told the FBI agent I met you here, yenno. Right at this bar."

He took the seat beside her, resting his elbow on the countertop and his head lazily on his fist. His eyes were reduced to curious slits as he waited attentively for her to continue. If he were being honest, she'd thrown him completely out of his element. Every time she dared call for him, all fearless and sure that he's going to show up, it throws him through a loop. Rio hadn't a clue where this was going, yet he ate up the pictures she painted behind his eyes with greedy excitement.

"Yeah, I said we had a few drinks, and then I invited you back to my place for another."

"That so," he purred, sounding more sure than he felt. He watched her lips, fighting a shiver as her pink tongue darted over her bottom one.

"Said you pulled my panties down-" she cascaded a finger down his propped up forearm- "and fucked me right there on the kitchen table."

He winced, picturing her naked flesh all too vividly and wishing for the second time that night that they weren't surrounded by all these damn people. Something about this not-so-good-girl with a curse on her tongue had him weak in the knees. It was as though they belonged to their own blissful bubble, oblivious yet all too aware of the sweaty, writhing pit of humans surrounding them. Men chased slack-jawed after women in impossibly tight, incredibly short dresses. The dim edges of the room bulged with sloppy tongues lapping lazily at stranger's throats, and temporary sweet nothings dipped drunkly into every occupied ear. But he didn't see any of that; all he saw was her, and the sparkling, high neckline of a woman who didn't need to use her body to get a man on her hook. That dress left everything but her curves to his imagination, and boy did it run wild. It wasn't the chase he loved so much, but the hopeless way he took only what she was willing to give, and the high of being given anything at all. She was all siren, coaxing him expertly into a dark, treacherous sea that would be his foolish doom. He worked all his restraint so as not to drag her back to his place; not without a formal invitation, that is.  
  
"What are we doing here, Elizabeth?" Rio bit through clenched teeth. He half hoped she'd catch the deeper meaning, answer the damn question he so desperately needed to clear up. Another part of him was hungry for whatever she would allow him tonight. She'd impressed him to pieces, not an easy feat by any means, and it was driving him half up the wall. She sat in front of him, laid back while she whispered lustfully into his ears. He felt her breath hot on his neck, and her eyes tore the buttons of his shirt open one by one. Oh the things he would do to be able to have her; here, now, everywhere, whenever.

"We're having a drink at a bar," she smirked darkly. "Or was there some other reason you showed up tonight?"

"Darlin', you're somethin else," he chuckled, shaking his head. Her ocean orbs twinkled like a moonlit tide in the dim bar, and for half a song they sat in contented quiet like they really were just two ordinary people.

"You wanna get Outta here?" she sung, leaning in so close he felt the words hot on his skin. Without a moment of hesitation Rio took her by the hand and danced her towards the door. As though he were truly a gentleman who entertained only a gentleman's thoughts, he held open the passenger side door to his car. Before helping her in, he pressed her back against the chilly metal with his chest. He claimed her mouth, made her his for as long as one could in a bar parking lot. He kissed her until her breath hitched and her hands became frantic over his too-clothed form, until she rubbed her hips against his thigh with need. Beth was swimming headily in his scent, his heat, his.. everything, and by the time he pulled away she was flushed and frustrated. Chivalry returned as quickly as it had gone, and he waited for her to climb in and get comfortable before closing the door gently. In record time he was around the car and seated beside her with the key in the ignition, but he hesitated before firing it up.

"Where are we going?"

Beth just shrugged, a bubbly laugh ringing through the small, enclosed space. "Anywhere," she said with a wide grin. He raised a brow in thought, turned the key and drove out into the street.

They blasted smoothly over long, dark stretches of highway. He swerved expertly through traffic and Beth turned up the radio, dancing and singing along all the way. She was so caught up in her carefree vibing that she didn't notice the way his eyes scraped over her at each red light, or the way he clutched the steering wheel to keep his hands off her. When they pulled into what looked like an abandoned warehouse he glanced over at her, checking for any signs of nervousness but was delighted when he found none. The car gave a minor jiggle as it purred to silence, and he turned the radio down to background noise.

"Is it take your mistress to work day?" She teased, and he hung his head in amusement.

"Mama you ain't no mistress, and we ain't working. You ready?" His chocolate eyes melted into her, and she'd never felt so safe in her whole life. She nodded, and he quickly hopped out to open her door and help her out into the empty seclusion of the lot. Eyeing her up and down appreciatively, Rio felt a tightness near his fly. Once she was standing he tangled their fingers together, and her heart swelled up. Not that she'd met a wide range outside his associates, but Rio was rather sweet for a criminal, she thought giddily.

Her back hit the car before she realized what was happening, his lips and free hand all over her. The kiss was demanding, dominating, and she sunk into it with all that she was until he pulled away, breathless. His fingertips found the hem of her dress, climbing high up her thighs until they hit their warm, wet destination. He tugged her panties down with trembling hands and slipped a single finger through her folds, teasing her core with delicious fervor. Rio grunted, crashing his lips over hers to swallow her sounds, wishing to capture any shred of her he could. He flicked his thumb over her clit at the exact moment two of his fingers dipped into her. Beth gave an appreciative moan, wondering what had taken him so damn long and grinded down hard onto his hand.

"You're so fucking wet for me," he rasped. He claimed her with his touch, dragging her pleasure out slowly so as to keep her a few moment longer. Rio whirled her around suddenly, pushing her chest down into the car, and flipped her dress up over her back. "Do you have any idea how crazy you drive me?"

He rolled his thick erection into her, showing her how much she affected him. His fingers pounded into her from behind, the wet sounds of her sex and the gutteral sobs he pulled from her throat filling the night. He fucked her with his hand until she begged him for more, using his free hand and the weight of his body to keep her from squirming to where she needed him. He wanted her to feel as out of control as she made him, to leave her a sopping mess of incoherent lust. The thought surprised him, but he was spurred on by the frustration that had built up within him over the last few months. An animalistic need to have her to himself drove him. Perhaps it was because she'd called herself ' _his mistress_ ,' when he knew she wasn't  **his** anything. He had no claim on her, and he never would.

"Please," she gasped, clawing at the hood for something, anything to hold her to Earth. But she found no threshold, and he refused to relent.

"What do you want, Elizabeth?" His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging sharply to expose her neck to him. "Huh? What do you want from me?" He bit hard into her pulse point, and the arch of her back opened her up to a whole new sensation of pleasure at his touch.

"More!" It was a tortured plea, ripping from her chest like a hungry animal. He growled into her. How dare she ask for more of him? This wretched goddess held him in the palm of her hands, kept his dark soul on call and wrapped tight around her finger. He didn't have any more to give, she already owned his everything. Rio wanted, no _NEEDED_ her to say it. Just once, even if she didn't mean it. Even if it was just like this. He willed his hands to fuck the words from her, to pull clarity from her body, and make her say she was his. All they found were breathy moans that only made him need her more.

"You're gonna have to do better than that, Babe," he murmured. He stilled inside her, leaving her a trembling, panting mess. She cried his name, wishing she could move under his crushing weight.

"I need to feel you, Rio," she begged. His hand pulled hastily from her heat, and she would have moaned her frustration had she not been surprised by the quick smack he delivered to her bottom. She cried out.

"Did you feel that?" His hand collided punishingly with her rump a second time, harder than before. "What about that? Do you feel me now, Elizabeth?"

She realized there was an anger to him, suddenly, though from where she wasn't sure. He seemed almost.. emotional? Beth decided then that she wanted to please him, to submit to his need to use her body. She wanted to be his stress relief, even if it was just like this. Her body was the one place he could let it out, and despite herself, she found that the pain really did turn her on. When his wide hand swung for her again she pushed back into it, embracing the marks he was sure to leave. His marks.

"I need you. I need more," Beth whimpered. Every nerve ending errupted as fire spread over her reddening flesh, a blush blossoming hotly over her lower set of cheeks. He hadn't even undressed, yet he consumed her; all she saw were the rigid lines of his jaw, she felt nothing but Rio's hands and his breath. But then his grip on her relaxed, and the pressure on her back lessened, and he left her a hunched over mess on his low black Cadillac. For the first time that night, Beth felt the chill in the air like a calculated punch in the gut.

Because maybe he needed more too, maybe he needed her back. But maybe they meant it in different ways. Rio wanted to ask her what he was to her, felt it burning on the tip of his tongue.

"I think we need to get you home," he murmured instead. When she turned to face him, he couldn't meet her wide blue gaze. There was nowhere to hide in the sea of her face, no corner dark enough to stop her from seeing him. He didn't see the mortified look of rejection that he knew was there.

"Well, I don't have a bedtime," Beth choked. She'd been aiming for a lighthearted tone, but it came out barely more than a whisper. Tears bit behind her pupils, but she refused to cry. Had she done something wrong? Her arms folded around her, a weak shelter from the hurt she'd come to know well being married to Dean. He didn't respond and she slipped into the car, angling her defeated form towards the window so he couldn't see her cry.


	8. The Secret Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations, and a little more than they bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm a slowpoke. The following one may or may not be the last chapter. Enjoy!

Fuck.

Was it really so hard to not be a prick? Could he have reacted any worse, acted any less like himself? Rio wished he could smash his own head into the pavement, again and again until he felt sensible and in control again. When her curvaceous form trembled in the seat beside him, her body wracking in silent anguish, he wanted to pull over and wrap himself around her. But he wouldn't, knew that he shouldn't. So instead he drove her home, breaking the silence only once she was half out of his car.

"I'll call you, yeah?" He murmured hurriedly, already reaching over the console to pull the door shut. It would be weeks before she heard from him, and they both knew it. Of course he would call, he'd as good as promised, but this was a shutdown, an emotional lockout. She felt absolutely foolish for involving herself romantically.. er.. physically with the King of Crime. To make it worse, he was also her boss. Beth was an educated woman for christsakes! Had those two pricey years of business school taught her nothing at all? Everything felt soiled now, as though the thrill had been vanquished by regret, and everything was burning quickly to the ground. Business and pleasure had been mixed, leaving a devastating cluster of chemical reactions in their wake.

In the first two weeks Beth took minor comfort in his promise; he would call, because Rio had never lied to her. He'd been cryptic and vague, but never dishonest. By the end of the third week she was livid. He'd left her hanging, waiting by the phone for a boy to call on her like some sad, highschool floozy. She'd begun to think how he was lucky he hadn't called, because she was in no condition to play nice. He'd diminished her to a sobbing pile of anger for nearly a month, and she hated it. How did she ever let him have this much power over her? If there was one thing Beth had never considered herself, it was pathetic. But here she was, caught messily between a divorce and a fling, and it had torn her apart.

Despite all the inner turmoil, business continued almost as usual. Heavily inked men would drop off thick bags of cash for the girls to wash, and they'd deliver the clean money to the warehouse a day before it was due, leaving them each with a day off. The bills were paid, kids were fed, and their six month plan was right on track, if not even a little ahead of schedule! But they never saw Rio. He had effectively shut himself away in the overlooking offices at whichever warehouse they were occupying that week. He watched the operations from a high distance, hovering like a hawk over his field of prey. Mostly, he was cradling the phone to his ear like a lifeline. When she asked, the ones who didn't shrug her off told her that whoever it was on the phone the boss seemed pretty fond of.

As the dawn of the fourth week rolled in, Beth decided she had had more than enough of this childish game of avoidance. Two adults could talk freely about their feelings, or lack thereof, and she'd demand it be done. Thankfully, Annie and Ruby hadn't put up too much of a fight when she told them she wanted to handle the drop alone. She'd lied through her teeth about wanting to negotiate upping their cut, saying that the news would come best from her. Giddily, they sent her on her way with the promise she'd let them know immediately how things went. So as she handed off the bag to the tall, burly man, Bullit, she thought was his name, she gathered her courage.

"Rio in?" Her voice boomed confidently, shocking the pants off of him. He was of few words, as most of the associates were, and merely nodded his head towards the metal staircase with dubious eyes. She climbed each stair with determination, puffing out her chest like she was a force to be reckoned with. As Beth reached the door, she didn't hesitate to waltz right on in, for if she had, she may have caught wind of the other voices drifting through the wood. Instead, it was her eyes that registered the female sitting casually on the desk. Long curls of dark locks shadowed the swirling on a tattooed neck, only the front pinned back to keep hair from her face. She was thin and curvy, and radiating of sex appeal. Rio was slouched back in a navy armchair a few feet in front of the desk, a mischievous grin playing about his lips. It was a smirk that quickly slid from his face when he noted the look in Beth's eyes. The pair seemed awfully chummy, and it made her gut twist with jealousy. Perhaps this was who had been on the phone over all these weeks.

"And who's this?" The woman spoke with dark amusement, almost teasing. Perhaps there was an accent, though she wasn't sure, and whether she had been making a playful jab at Beth or Rio was hard to say.

"..Elizabeth," he drawled formally. It held none of the usual heat she'd grown accustomed to. The girl raised her defined eyebrows, clearly putting a face to a name.

"¡Qué sorpresa!" The exclaimed Spanish set Beth aback, feuling the growing lump in her throat. The girl's tone was low and sultry as she raked her chocolate eyes over Beth with abandon. Something in the look made Beth's palms slick, and she had the sudden thought she was about to be devoured. Beautiful honey skin, clad in tight black clothing slipped slowly from the desk, circling towards the redhead in the doorway. A leather jacket accentuated the fabric a tastefully tattered crop top, leaving an inviting expanse of abdomen bared above form-hugging black jeans. Beth could make out the top half of what appeared to be a gothic rose tattoo, the rest dipping out of view beneath her hips.

"¿Esta es ella?" She cast a doubtful look towards Rio, who simply nodded. Upon confirmation, she turned warmly back to Beth, grasping her hand. "Ah," she breathed. "I have heard much about you," she purred, nearly putting Beth in a trance. Definitely an accent. "The siren from whom my Rio cannot stay away."

At the deep sound of her voice taking claim over Rio, she began to notice some striking similarities. The same slanting of nose, a matching catlike curvature to their eyes. Relief smoothed over her entire body, coursing soothingly through her veins. Without a doubt, they were blood.  
But she was much too young to be his mother, so perhaps... Beth gasped out, gawking back and forth between the two. Did Rio have..? It couldn't be. Could it? The thrilling revelation came alongside the news that Beth knew next to nothing about Rio, stinging at her pride with malice. The girl, still clutching to her hand brought her out from the spiraling in her mind.

"I am Olinda," she cooed, gazing up into Beth's face. She appeared to be searching for something, but Beth had focused her attention on Rio.

"Rio," she breathed. "Do y-... Is she-... Do you have a SISTER?" she fumbled for the words, feeling incredulous even as she spoke them out loud. Olinda drew in a loud huff of air, baring her offense rather dramatically.

"YOU DID NOT TELL HER ABOUT ME?" she screeched, the ghost of a grin the only sign she wasn't actually about to kill him in his small office. He winced, groaning loudly as he flung his head back against the armchair. A flurry of Spanish drifted between them, Rio's tone defensive and his sister's not backing down. A memory ticked inside Beth's brain; Olinda... Rio...

"Oh my god," Beth exclaimed. "Are you Brazilian?!"

Olinda 'tsked' disapprovingly, clearly unimpressed by how little Rio had opened up. And just like that, they were bound by the ropes of friendship; much in the way drunken girls become sisters in the dim light of club bathrooms. Olinda bared a lengthy familial history out for Beth like an open book, and she consumed each word ravenously.

Thanks to the hard work of their Grandparents, their mother, Maria, was born in a rather luxurious section of Portugal. It was very uncommon for women, much less a minority to go on to higher education, but she was fortunate. Wealth had paved the way for her to be anything she wanted to be. But around the time she was expected to be heading away to university, Maria delivered the news she was expecting something very different; a baby. Or, as luck would apparently have it, TWO babies. Their father was a mystery, a long kept secret their mother had taken to her grave. So it was just the two of them now, and Rio provided for her. But he never involved her. His sister was clearly a force to be reckoned with, and by the glint in his eye, he'd do anything to see her go as far as the moon. The fact he hadn't said a word to halt her from sharing so much with Beth, his chocolate eyes never leaving the chatting pair, spoke of how much he trusted his twin.

Truth be told, seeing Beth and his sister teaming up against him, giggling at his expense made his heart swell. They immediately had begun acting as though they'd known each other their whole lives. Here they were before him, the two most important people in his life, and they already loved each other. How did he ever get so lucky? Guilt reminded him that he had recently vanished from both of their lives, and on the odd chance, they'd angrily shown up at the same time. Neither had knocked in their quest for answers and reconciliation. Olinda had gotten hers, but there was a shy elephant in the room that still needed to be addressed. It was high time to get his house in order. Rio cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the females.

"Give us a minute," he murmured. His eyes shone on Beth's, swimming deep in her baby blues.

"That tone may fly with your goons, hermano, but you don't speak to me that way!"

"Lo siento, but I need to speak with Elizabeth." His eyes pleaded, shimmering with love for this surprise of a sister of his. Finally, after a moment of considering him seriously, she spoke.

"¿Estás dispuestos a vendernuestra alma a cambio?"

The translation was lost on Beth, but Rio nodded slow. Olinda calculated his reply before she gave a conclusive click, nodded her head, and strutted from the room. She shot a devious wink at Beth before Rio the door behind her. He motioned to the recently vacated armchair, offering Beth a chance to sit and soak in everything she'd come to learn. She took the opportunity, crashing down in a daze. Had that really just happened?

"You have a sister." He nodded once, his eyes barely slits. "A TWIN sister," she repeated. Endless questions stampeded through her mind, each every bit as pressing as the last. Where to even begin? How much more would he share?

"What's your last name?" She tried, going out on a whim. He cocked his head to the side, but remained silent. Figures.

"What are you doing here, Elizabeth." Something about his tone made it sound more like a demand than a question.

"You didn't call," she shrugged. He could hear the hurt hidden behind the high walls she'd built around herself. There was anger too, and something.. more.

"I would have."

Beth scoffed, a deeply bitter sound. "Right, right." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Whenever it suited you, is that it?" Her lips twisted up into a sour snarl, the smile anything but happy. "Always on your terms, your time. What about me, Rio?" Her voice grew louder, rattling the walls of her ribcage while he remained a statue. Beth finally allowed all the Pent up emotions spill over, and the more she poured the more there seemed to be.

"You can use my mind to escape the day, but won't let me even an inch into yours. You get to take your frustrations out on me, my body, but you don't owe me anything, not even a phone call? You're all charming and present when you want something, but as soon as it gets real you shut me out. How is any of that fair, Rio?" Her voice cracked, thick streams of tears threatening to rush down her flushed cheeks. She shot from the chair, unable to sit still any longer. The balling of her fists left her knuckles a striking ivory as she paced the room frantically. " And what the **HELL** was that, last time, huh? What am I to you? Am I just-"

And he was on her then, his lips savagely purging all that pain away. Wishing he could say the words. But he was no good for her, and all he could do was kiss her until she couldn't think anymore. His fingers found her hair, as they'd been aching to for weeks. He greedily palmed her hips, pushing her back against the desk and tugging a creamy thigh up to hitch around his waist. His tongue swirled about her lips, seeking permission to explore. He groaned when she welcomed him in, and she relished the deep throatiness of his voice. Her dress hiked up further, and his hands sought out the newly exposed expanse of skin. They travelled upwards, a slow climb that caused her to whimper. But finally, they found her core, stroking light as a feather over her plain cotton thong. Beth tossed her head back with abandon, panting heavily. He felt the anticipating quake of her melting form, and he suckled at her throat, knowing he'd be leaving marks. His marks. Rio bit down over her pulse point, and she moaned his name, struggling to recall why she'd come here in the first place.

"Rio," she pleaded. He ignored her, focusing on his hands as they slipped into her dampened panties. "Tell me, please!" He gathered her slickness, drawing it up towards her clit. She bucked her hips up to meet him as he pressed down into her engorged nub, circling it just the way he knew she liked. And God, was she beautiful when she winded into it, driving his hands right where she needed him, milking herself of all the pleasure she deserved. He slipped a digit inside her heat, and another, setting an agonizingly relaxed rhythm. Beth simply vibrated with need, mumbling incoherent sweet nothings. When she came, it was only his name that managed to make it past her lips, but still he didn't stop his slow build.

As she quivered deliciously into her second blissful release he relived the first time he'd seen her. She'd become so much more in such a short time. Seeing her like this, splayed before him, hair a mess for him over the stained oak wood of his desk, he couldn't help but think maybe he loved her. He didn't know much about that, but he knew without a doubt that she was more than a stress relief. _God, she was everything to him._

He had to pin her down while brought her to a third orgasm, loving every minute she writhed beneath him. He cradled her limp form to him, breathing in her sweet scent like she was the last good thing on earth. Finally, she peeled her eyelids open, gazing up into his features. It was as though he was new in her eyes, and he shifted back to see her fully.

"What?" He chuckled with a grin. He looked much younger all of a sudden, as though the strain and stress had drained entirely from him.

"Did you really.." she hesitated, worrying her lower lip. Rio pulled her gaze back up to his with a finger under her chin. Beth took a deep breath and continued. "Did you mean it?"

His brow cocked quizzically, shock etched over his face.

"When I- I mean you said that.." she drew in a deep breath. "You said that I was everything to you."

And there it was. But, he hadn't said it out loud.. had he? Rio, the man with the perfectly trained tongue wouldn't let something so crucial slip out. But this woman was beneath him, staring up with hope in her guarded face, and he was terrified. Because he had meant it, every word. But where would that leave them? He'd taken a leap of faith in her when he offered to let them pay him back, and again when he sent them across the border. Every step of the way he'd placed unfathomable trust in her abilities to surprise him, and so he offered her another. Rather than shut her out, like his instincts begged him to, he told her the truth.

"Yes," he said. And she immediately began to weep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is on hiatus for now, but it is not Abandoned. Please be patient, I'm sorry for the wait!


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